


Let's Disagree to Disagree (to a Degree)

by gly13



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Attempt at Humor, Character Development, Cliche, Depression, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lee Taeyong & Seo Youngho | Johnny Are Best Friends, M/M, Major Illness, Past Child Abuse, Slow Burn, johnny is the best person in this entire fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-02-16 12:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18691297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gly13/pseuds/gly13
Summary: Kim Doyoung: enrolled in the nation's first-ever dark magic course, eager to learn, and determined to not let anyone get in his way.So when Lee Taeyong thrusts a leaflet in his face screaming about the evil of dark magic and all those who practise it, Doyoung really has no choice but to burn the pamphlet. Right in front of his (far too beautiful) face.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the first chapter of lets disagree to disagree 
> 
> first things first: to my best friend and proofreader Caitlin, thank you so much you give me the motivation to write
> 
> some of the characters in this may act badly, but if i've used someone's name it means i love their irl counterpart tremendously and this portrayal is not an accurate representation of them - i have nothing against anyone featured in this fic
> 
> okay that's all i really hope you enjoy this fic

 

‘ _ The specially selected fifty students make their way to the nation’s first-ever dark magic lecture, amidst protests and encouragement, today. The controversial bill was passed after much debate, but Neo Culture Tech. - forever at the forefront of progress - today welcomes special Professor Choi Sunho to teach-’ _

Something dense hit the back of Taeyong’s head and he pulled his eyes away from his phone, hand rubbing at the back of his skull and eyes glaring into Yuta’s unapologetic ones.

“You do realise that it doesn’t matter how many times you read it, it’s not gonna change, right?” he said, sitting down besides Taeyong on the wooden bench. He flopped his bag onto the table, landing squarely on top of Taeyong’s books.

“It’s not the same one,” Taeyong argued, angrily grabbing the carton of strawberry milk Yuta had thrown at his head from where it had fallen on the table and stabbed the straw through the top, “it’s a different article because it’s everywhere, because it’s all that anyone seems to care about.”

“Including you,” Yuta said, a knowing look in his eye.

“Of course  _ I  _ care,” Taeyong said indignantly, sucking on his straw through a pout, “I’m angry and pissed that I did all that work protesting and writing strongly worded letters to the school board just for them to ignore it and decide to house the nation’s first course on literal evil and how to use it right here, right in front of me. I mean, it’s bad enough it was legalised, but in my own fucking university? And now the entire world seems to think it’s their job to rub it in my face that I failed.”

He returned to angrily slurping his milk, Yuta patting his head in a half-hearted attempt at comfort.

“Well, TY, obviously I understand why you’re so against dark magic - you have more right to be than most people - but there’s not much you can do now. I guess you just have to trust that these ‘rigorously chosen’ special fifty candidates will have enough sense to use it responsibly. I mean, from a philosophical standpoint,” Yuta pressed on even as Taeyong pointedly rolled his eyes, “it’s not the magic itself that’s inherently evil, but the people who abuse it - same with all magic types.”

“Dark magic literally manifests itself out of negativity and the want to cause people pain, Yuta. Anyone who wants to study it clearly has some dark thoughts and the capability for evil. Just because they’ve been given a license and had a background check doesn’t mean they’re not gonna use it to hurt people.”

“Ah well, I tried.” Yuta removed his hand from Taeyong’s head. He searched through his bag and pulled out a number of textbooks and a large, worn folder so full with paper it could barely close.

“Yuta, that thing is ancient and it looks like it’s going to fall apart. You can’t keep using the same folder for three years. Please get a new one.”

“Just because you’re pissed at the world doesn’t mean you have to take it out on my precious folder, TY,” Yuta said, holding said object defensively. “Just keep drinking your milk - it was stupid expensive considering it’s also stupid tiny.”

“Hey! Taeyong may be tiny but he is at the  _ very  _ least average intelligence,” a low voice called from somewhere above them and Taeyong groaned as Yuta sniggered.

Johnny slid into the bench opposite of them, still laughing at his own joke, and set down his own bag on the floor, carefully placing his camera atop the table.

“Stop glaring at me, Tae, I just defended you!” Taeyong did not stop glaring at Johnny. “Why is Taeyong stupid then? I mean, other than the usual stuff.”

“That’s not wha-” Taeyong began.

“What do you think?” Yuta cut him off.

“Ah,” Johnny turned to look at Taeyong, something like sympathy in his eyes, “still brooding?”

“I’m not brooding!” Taeyong protested, milk spilling out of his straw as he clutched the carton too tight.

Johnny and Yuta shared an infuriating look before they fixed Taeyong with the same expression that seemed to say  _ sure you aren’t, sweetie. _

Johnny reached across the table and grabbed Taeyong’s phone, ignoring the noise of aggravation that scraped out of his throat. Johnny unlocked the device swiftly, smug look morphing into a frown as he scanned the words on the screen.

“Stop torturing yourself with this stuff, Tae,” he said, frown deepening as he flicked through Taeyong’s many open tabs, “it’s masochistic at this point. Unless you’re into that, in which case I won’t judge.” When his joke fell flat, he continued, “seriously though, these articles are all stupid. There’s a limit to how many times you can use the word ‘special’ in a single paragraph and all these people have gone above and beyond.”

“But it’s important to know what’s happening!”

“You  _ know  _ what’s happening, Tae,” Johnny said, handing him back his phone, “you know because you spent most of last year and the summer obsessing over it. And I get why, and I was there with you and will continue to be there with you as you continue to obsess over it this year.” Johnny eyed the neat stack of pamphlets on the table wearily. “But this shouldn’t take over your entire life.”

“You can’t let them take any more of your life away from you, Yongie,” he finished in a smaller voice. His eyes bore into Taeyong’s, soft and understanding but Taeyong was determined to not be swayed - he hadn’t spent time and money designing and printing pamphlets for nothing.

Taeyong looked away quickly.

“What I’m doing is stopping dark magic and evil from taking over anyone else’s lives.”

Johnny sighed heavily, looking briefly at Yuta with an unreadable expression before leaning back on the bench, resigned.

“Of course, Tae,” he said, “I know. I know you are.”

He stretched his arm over to the stack of papers and took a fair amount, placing them carefully into his bag.

“I’ll give them out to the guys in my photography course and anyone else I know.”

Taeyong smiled gratefully, the tension in the air dissipating with the small but genuine smile that broke out on his face. Yuta grabbed a few as well, stuffing them with far less elegance than Johnny into his rucksack.

“Yuta, have you revised for your history test yet?” called a voice from behind them.

“Shit.”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Jungwoo said, sitting on the bench beside Taeyong, Kun in tow.

The others in the group looked at him in confusion as he settled in, leaning into Taeyong’s side.

“He asked me to remind him because he’s useless,” Jungwoo shrugged, resting his head delicately onto Taeyong’s shoulder and shutting his eyes.

“He is useless,” Kun muttered, and Yuta shot him a sardonic smile before turning back to the scattered mess of papers littered over the table that somehow made up his notes. They all nodded in easy agreement and watched their friend whisper dates to himself under his breath.

“A test first week back?” Johnny said. “Is that not a bit much?”

“Not for Prof. Park, obviously.” Yuta threw his head back, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “I just don’t care. I hate that history’s compulsory for magical ethics, I can talk fine about the moral use of magic without knowing how witches were killed in the Middle Ages in fucking Europe.”

“There, there,” Kun said apathetically. “How’s Mark settling in, Tae?” he asked, blatantly ignoring Yuta’s glare boring into the side of his head.

“Good,” Taeyong said, a smile blooming across his face, “I think he’s liking all his professors so far and he says he’s not regretting choosing anything, which puts him in a much better position than I was back then. He’s sharing a room with Donghyuck so it’s not like he’s gonna get into a fight with his roommate, either, like someone else I could mention.” Taeyong continued, grin widening as Yuta let out an indignant squawk. “Though when Johnny and I volunteered to help them move in, we realised that Donghyuck owns a  _ lot _ of shit. And it’s all really heavy. And his lazy ass didn’t even help, just kept complaining about how tired he was and pretending to collapse on his bed, the brat.”

“Don’t act like you and your twig arms did anything either, TY,” Johnny scoffed, “it was all me; you just dusted.”

“Who was the one who kept sneezing, Seo? Huh? And maybe you should’ve thought about that before you were born as a fucking giant.” Taeyong stuck his tongue out at him and Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Sorry?” Johnny cupped a hand to his ear. “Where’s that coming from? I can’t hear you. Guess you’re just too far below me, you small-ass muppet.”

“When was the last recorded Lithuanian witch burning?” Yuta suddenly yelled, effectively stopping Johnny and Taeyong from devolving any further into their petty argument.

“1543,” Jungwoo answered without opening his eyes.

Yuts turned back to his notes and scrawled said date in thick black lines across the top of one of his pages.

“How do you learn anything from those notes, seriously,” Kun said, eyeing the papers with distaste, “they’re disgusting.”

“ _ You’re _ disgusting,” Yuta mumbled under his breath, not looking up.

“Okay, everyone still up for movie night at mine and Johnny’s tonight?” Taeyong asked.

“Um… actually, about that,” Johnny started.

“Johnny, you’re my fucking co-host! It’s at  _ our  _ flat. It’s first week back tradition, come on!”

“I am really sorry, but it’s the only night Ten can do this week and you know how busy he is. I won’t be long. I’ll be back for like at least two and a half films.”

“Ugh, fine! You’re excused but you better buy me sweets to make up for it.” Johnny nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. “And you’re cleaning up after. Everyone else can make it, right?”

The rest of them nodded in confirmation and Taeyong aimed a pointed look at Johnny who pouted exaggeratedly at him until Taeyong’s glare cracked and he broke into a high-pitched giggle. Johnny leaned back, looking satisfied.

“I’ll be a bit late though, I’ve got the Chinese students' society meet,” Kun said.

“No problem,” said Taeyong, “everyone bring snacks and they better be things I like or I’m not letting you through the door.”

“TY, you’re cooking, yeah?”

“Yes, of course. Make sure to eat as much as you can so Johnny gets scraps,” Taeyong said, smiling saccharinely at his best friend, laughing somewhat maniacally at his mortified expression. Johnny placed a hand over his heart, looking wounded.

Yuta’s head fell to the desk with a loud thump and Taeyong’s head whipped to the side in alarm. A muffled scream sounded from where Yuta’s head lay. Taeyong patted his back awkwardly.

“You’ll be fine,” he promised.

Taeyong checked the time on his phone and began to put his things into his bag. He gently lifted Yuta’s head up to gather the books under his head before tapping Jungwoo on the arm to get him to remove his head from Taeyong’s shoulder.

“It’s forty-five minutes until the nation’s first evil magic lecture,” he told them. “I’m going to stand outside the building and give out some pamphlets - see if I can get any more people to join the society.”

“Is there really any point now?” Kun asked hesitantly, not seeing Johnny and Yuta throwing him looks telling him to  _ shut up. _ “The law’s already passed; is there really any point in protesting anymore?”

Taeyong sighed and launched into his speech somewhat half-heartedly, “just because it’s been legalised doesn’t mean we can’t change it. I’ll see you tonight, guys. Don’t forget snacks.”

He made to step away from the bench when he felt a hand encase his wrist, halting his steps.

“Hang on a second,” Jungwoo said, rummaging around in his bag in search for something.

He pulled out a black marker pen and pulled the lid off with his teeth, bringing Taeyong’s hand down to rest on the table as he drew on the back of it. He moved the pen quickly, lines forming a row of small flower buds attached to a thin stem. Taeyong watched him work expectantly and with fondness that he knew was reflected in his eyes.

Jungwoo placed the cap back on the pen and covered the drawing with his own hand, muttering an incantation under his breath. Taeyong’s hand grew warmer and he felt something like conviction suddenly flood his veins. When Jungwoo pulled away, the flower had bloomed into colour, leaving a living, breathing mark on his hand that swayed slightly with the movement of his arm.

Taeyong raised his eyebrow, asking a silent question.

“Gladiolus,” Jungwoo said. “Strength and moral integrity. Seemed appropriate,” he shrugged.

Taeyong thanked him sincerely, bending down to give him a quick hug before standing up slightly straighter than before. And with his chin held high and pamphlets clutched in his hand, he strutted off.

  
  


Doyoung didn’t bother looking up from his textbook even as he felt a solid weight throw itself against his side. He continued to ignore the finger that began to incessantly poke into his left cheek, though the words on his page were no longer registering in his mind. Despite that, he remained with his gaze fixed determinedly on the black lettering, even as Ten started blowing air into his ear.

It was only when he saw something that looked distinctly like a tongue in his peripheral vision did he turn his head sideways to be met with the sight of a large annoying grin attached to a small annoying face.

“ _ What _ do you want?” Doyoung spat.

“Attention, obviously,” Ten deadpanned.

Doyoung stared at him with resignation for a moment, hating the way Ten’s grin only widened at his irritation and turning pointedly back to his book.

Ten made a disgruntled noise, throwing his head back dramatically before his face settled into the pout, moving his face into Doyoung’s direct line of sight. He pulled his eyebrows together in feigned sadness when Doyoung flicked him in the forehead. He sat back up and moved his face uncomfortably close to Doyoung’s before beginning to fake cry with loud, dry heaving sobs.

“What’ve you done now, Doyoung?” Jaehyun said with pretend sternness as he sat down on the grass opposite them. “Did you tell him his number of piercings was excessive again?”

“Or that Johnny’s only with him because Ten’s small enough to make Johnny look even taller?” Taeil chimed in, sitting next to Jaehyun.

“No,” Ten said through his non-existent tears, turning his attention towards the two newcomers, “he won’t pay- Jesus Christ Taeil! What the fuck happened to you?!”

At that, Doyoung did look up. His jaw dropped instantly.

Taeil’s entire face was tinged green, bar two marks around his eyes in the shape of goggles. But his hair -  _ his hair  _ \- was singed and coated with ash and stained with horrible light green patches as well as piss yellow ones. He seemed to be missing a patch at the side of his head, where the paleness of his scalp was bright against the dark black that surrounded it.

“Oh yeah,” Taeil laughed, far too carefree for someone who now looked the way he did, “accident in potions. Added too much cow’s liver and  _ white  _ heather instead of blue - classic mistake. Also, I’m pretty sure Yugyeom made a spelling mistake in the spell because, you know, he’s more inclined to Greek spells than Latin. And I think he was probably hungry.”

He continued even as the three of them gaped at him incredulously.

“But that’s the point, isn’t it? Trial and error? Every day something new? That’s what experiments are. We were hardly gonna hit it exactly on our first try.”

Doyoung shook his head in exasperation, turning back to his book, though the image of Taeil’s new horrifying appearance seemed reluctant to disappear from his eyes.

“What’re you reading?” Jaehyun asked, having torn his eyes away from Taeil’s smiling form. “Dons?... Doyoung? Doyoung? Kim Dongyong?”

Ten made a large motion to seemingly say  _ see! _ and Jaehyun sighed. He reached over and plucked the book from where it lay on Doyoung’s lap, ignoring his whining as he stretched his hands out for it back.

“‘ _ Dark Magic: True Origins’, _ ” Jaehyun read, frowning. “You do realise that the point of enrolling in a course at university is so that you go to the lectures and learn there, right? You're not meant to try and learn the entire thing before you even go to the first one. Otherwise, why would anyone choose to be in crippling debt for the rest of their lives if they could just teach themselves?”

“I’m just trying to get a head start,” Doyoung grumbled. “What if I show up and everyone else there is completely versed in the use and origins of dark magic and I look like that idiot who doesn’t realise what a massive opportunity this is and didn’t bother to learn a bit of background? What if he makes us take a test and I fail and get kicked off the course and get my dark magic license revoked even after all the stupid fucking interviews and applications I had to do and I get replaced by someone who did do their fucking reading? And then I’m forever that guy who had to give up being part of something that will no doubt be pretty famous in the future because he wasn’t prepared. And  _ then _ I have to change my dissertation topic because it doesn’t make sense without studying dark magic. And then-”

“Doyoung,” Ten cut him off, seizing his shoulders firmly and looking him dead in the eyes. “Stop spiralling. Stop worrying. None of that is going to happen. Okay? You’re literally the smartest person I know - well second because, like, I know myself - but you are so smart and you work really fucking hard and you deserve to be here and they cannot get rid of you that easily. You’re too good to let go.”

“That’s what you said about him,” Doyoung said quietly.

Ten’s gaze softened. “Yeah, well he was an idiot who couldn’t see all the amazing things about you. You are the cutest, most amazing, funniest bunny in the world and you are going to go to your dark magic lecture and you’re going to be top of your class - just like you are in  _ all _ your other classes - without stressing too much about it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good bunny,” Ten laughed as Doyoung swiped a hand at him. But despite his violent action, he felt a smile appear on his face. It wasn’t his usual gummy smile that overtook his entire face, but it was still there and that was enough to placate Ten, apparently.

Jaehyun handed him back his textbook, dimples showing themselves when Doyoung placed it into his bulky rucksack.

“Okay,” Doyoung said, standing up and dusting himself off, “I’m gonna get going - don’t wanna be late.”

Taeil offered him an energetic thumbs up, but Doyoung still refused to look at the atrocity that currently was his face. Jaehyun let out a small whoop, shooting him finger guns that Doyoung guessed were meant to be supportive.

He began to walk across the field and heard Ten call out behind him, “you got this, babe!”

_ Yes, yes I do  _ Doyoung thought.

  
  


Doyoung walked towards Building 127, enjoying the bright sun that shone upon the cement path. Small groups of students were scattered around the campus, some engaging in lively conversation and others sprawled lifelessly on the ground, the stress hitting them as early as the first week, ostensibly.

He ran a hand through his hair as he saw the large brick building fall into his sight and felt a smile split his face, teeth and all. He took a deep breath and nodded his head in affirmation, resisting the urge to pinch himself as he continued towards it.

As he approached, he noticed a boy standing outside the steps handing out some sort of flyer and inwardly sighed, not looking forward to having to tell some naïvely optimistic person that he really didn’t care about whatever issue they were dedicating their life to.

And just as he was mentally preparing, the boy came fully into focus and Doyoung’s left foot caught under his right and he went stumbling forward. He straightened up immediately, feeling heat rush to the tips of his ears as he coughed awkwardly and looked around. No one had seen him. He was safe.

He willed down the redness in his ears as he continued to walk towards the boy with a face that was definitely some kind of spell because no one could look like that because that was unfair to the rest of the mere mortals in the world. His jawline was distinguished and his eyes were wide in a way that should have made him look like some weird shocked deer-chinchilla hybrid - but instead made him seem just  _ nice _ . They were open in earnest as he spoke to the girl he was currently handing a leaflet to and his eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, scrunching his face up.

The girl took the flimsy sheet of paper from the boy’s outstretched hand and Doyoung watched as a blinding grin broke out on his face. And. Wow. That was a  _ smile _ . And suddenly all other smiles seemed stupid and ingenuine in the shadow of the light that overtook all of his features.

And it was the second time that day Doyoung had been taken aback by someone’s hair. But unlike Taeil’s disastrous monstrosity, Doyoung couldn’t stop looking at the tufts that rested atop this boy’s head.

It was pink.

Pink like candyfloss and cherry blossoms and what Doyoung imagined the word  _ ethereal _ would be if it were a colour. It was fluffy and hung just above his eyes, strands blowing gently in the wind as he thanked the girl again. He turned away then and looked down, smiling gently to himself. Doyoung was sure he felt his heart skip a beat and then realised that he was stupid for thinking something like that was possible just because the boy was cute.

And as he watched the boy look proudly at his leaflet, that same smile still shining brightly on his face, Doyoung also thought it was stupid that he thought it was possibly the cutest thing he had ever seen.

It was only when the boy looked up and straight at him did Doyoung realise that he had stopped moving. He felt his eyes widen before he coughed slightly and resumed his walk. The boy looked away again.

And Doyoung was a confident person. Ten would often describe him as  _ up his own ass _ but Doyoung knew that he was smart and above average physically, but in the presence of this man, Doyoung suddenly felt very self-conscious. Nonetheless, he kept his head up. And, though he knew Ten’s advice had not pertained to this situation at all, he repeated  _ you’ve got this, you’ve got this _ in his head like a mantra as he approached.

Because, if it were for this divine being, Doyoung was more than capable of pretending to be interested in some niche issue like an endangered species of crab or some pathetic hobby like needlepoint. If he could see that smile again, there was honestly very little that he wouldn’t do.

They locked eye contact when they were roughly two metres apart and Doyoung let a smile spread on his face and felt happiness bloom in his chest when it was returned. Fuck, he was even cuter up close.

The boy started to speak, “Hi, my name’s Taeyong.”

Doyoung nodded dumbly before realising that he should probably respond.

“I’m Doyoung,” he said.

“Well, Doyoung,” Taeyong continued, “I’m president of the anti-dark magic society and, as you probably know today is the day of the first lecture and it’s being held right here in the building behind me.”

Taeyong offered a flyer and Doyoung took it automatically, mind too focused on how Taeyong had said his name and how cute and light his voice was to actually register what his voice was saying.

“Dark magic is a dangerous, evil practice and there’s a reason its study was illegal and limited to only a few trusted scholars for the last few centuries,” Taeyong continued and as he did so, Doyoung’s brain caught up on what was being said.

One glance away from Taeyong’s face and down at the leaflet and he felt his stomach drop.

The leaflet spelt out a million arguments against the legalisation of dark magic in neat boxes with detailed diagrams, pictures, case studies and life stories of people affected by dark magic. Doyoung’s eyes scanned over the words he’d read a thousand times before on a million different blogs and websites who thought their poorly written posts could influence the government in any way at all. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Something like disappointment crawled in his gut.

“Seriously?” Doyoung started, looking up to a now surprised Taeyong who had his mouth hanging open in a broken trail of words. “Get over it, dude. It’s been legalised; it’s too late. You’re wasting your time and you’re wasting paper.”

He made to give the pamphlet back to Taeyong, resigning himself to the fact that his beliefs were somehow insufferable enough to detract from his face, which truly was a feat, considering.

Taeyong ignored his attempt and seemed to snap out of whatever stupor he had gone in to.

“Excuse me?” he said, eyebrows furrowed and something like anger brewing behind his eyes.

“I’m not repeating myself,” Doyoung sighed and tried to step around him.

Taeyong moved in front of him again, effectively blocking him from going anywhere.

“If the law could be changed to legalise it, it can be changed back. All we need is larger public outcry and for people to see some sense. If you’d take and read the leaflet, you’d understand how negatively the abuse of dark magic can impact people’s li-”

“Listen, Taeyong, I really do not care. I don’t care about fucking,” he looked down at the pamphlet, “Carol from America whose psycho boyfriend seduced her with dark magic. Dark magic is still regulated, it’s still controlled and making it illegal wouldn’t stop the psychos from being psychotic anyway. So give up. You fought and you lost. Go take up needlepoint or something, then come back to me and I’ll probably join.”

And Doyoung thought that was that.

But of course it wasn’t. Because what lunatic would waste his time protesting against something that had already happened if they weren’t ridiculously stubborn.

“How? How can you not care?” Taeyong demanded. “Are you really so self-absorbed that you ignore the suffering of other people and refuse to try and do something to prevent it from happening again?” Doyoung’s watch ticked obnoxiously on his wrist as Taeyong’s voice started to rise in volume. “Dark magic gives people the tools they need to inflict life-long damage unto people, and you’re okay with that being given free legality so long as people get a fucking certificate? Well, sue me if I don’t feel safe in a society where literally anyone could decide to reanimate a dead body or use me to perform a blood ritual.”

“That’s a misconception,” Doyoung said shortly, voice growing louder to match Taeyong’s. “Dark magic isn’t all necromancy and sacrifices. It’s an art.”

“It’s animalistic and grotesque.” Taeyong crossed his arms over his chest, stepping closer and looking up into Doyoung’s face with eyebrows practically one by now, and a deep fire burning in his irises.

“You know what, Taeyong,” Doyoung pushed back, using the few centimetres he had over Taeyong to hopefully seem more intimidating, “fuck you, fuck your ignorant views, and fuck your society that is an absolute waste of our university's money that could go to better things like new dark magic textbooks, so we can learn useful things instead of bombarding strangers with shitty, ugly pamphlets,” he thrust the offending object in Taeyong’s face, “and our even shittier opinions. Mind your own fucking business, Taeyong.”

And with adrenaline thumping through his every word, Doyoung couldn’t stop himself before he muttered a word under his breath and the pamphlet burst into flames. Doyoung watched with sick satisfaction as Taeyong’s eyes widened and he looked aghast, staring at it with a multitude of emotions, the most prominent of them despair. Something uncomfortable swam in Doyoung’s chest, but he squashed it down, choosing instead to relish the way the ash fell from his fingertips as he unclasped his hand.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Doyoung said, even though Taeyong’s eyes were still fixed on the pile of black dust on the ground, “I’m going to be late for my lecture as one of fifty  _ specially selected _ students.”

He just about caught sight of Taeyong’s head jerking upwards in poorly hidden shock before he stalked off past the pink-haired boy. And as he walked up the stone steps, he could feel Taeyong’s eyes piercing holes in his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much!!  
> Please validate me by leaving kudos and comments as they make me want to write more.
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> i hope you enjoyed, please look forward to the next update


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t(hank) y(ou) sm for all the comments on the last chapter!!
> 
> as always thanks to Caitlin for proofreading <3
> 
> i hope you enjoy :))

 

“Can you believe that?!” Taeyong shrieked, slamming the oven door closed with a strength that seemed to shake the entire apartment. “How can he just not care about Carol? She was scarred for life! That poor woman has not trusted another human being for five years and he has the audacity to say he ‘doesn’t care’.”

He grabbed a cloth angrily, dumped an excessive amount of cleaning product onto it and got to work scrubbing the cupboards in the kitchen with far more force than necessary. The coarse material of the cloth rubbed somewhat painfully against his hand, but he ignored it.

“And then,” he said, hopefully pushing as much frustration as he felt into his words, “he told me to take up needlepoint? Like - what? Where did that even come from? This isn’t some pointless society for me to meet people with the same hobbies as me - it’s a group dedicated to actually changing something.”

“Tae,” Yuta said warily from where he was perched on one of the kitchen counters.

Taeyong whipped his head around, annoyed at being cut off mid-rant.

“What?” he snapped.

“You know I am very supportive of your stress relief methods, but I think trying to bake and clean simultaneously is definitely going to end up with you feeding us brownies made with bleach instead of milk.”

Taeyong felt his eyebrows furrow his forehead as he looked sadly from the bleach bottle clasped in his hand to one of the many glass mixing bowls resting on the kitchen counter.

“You don’t put milk in brownies,” he said in weak protest, but set down the bottle of bleach and secured the lid nonetheless. He reached for a wooden spoon instead, sticking it into a chocolate cupcake mix and gripping the edge of the bowl tightly.

“And then,” Taeyong continued, looking determinedly down at his mixture as he mixed - he knew his face was displaying every bit of dejectedness he felt, and he didn’t want his friends to see that, so he spoke his next words quietly - a part of him hoping that if they couldn’t hear them, it would make them untrue, “he burned my pamphlet.”

“He fucking what?” Yuta said loudly. 

Taeyong saw Johnny remove his fingers from one of the mixing bowls and stare at him with temper in his eyes. Johnny rarely got angry; he was a gentle giant, all soft smiles and piles of plushies. But when angered, he was a solid six foot something of intimidation that you did not want to mess with. And very few things made Johnny angry but, Taeyong knew, causing one of his friends pain would get him there quicker than anything else. Besides, maybe, insulting his hair.

“It’s not a big deal,” Taeyong tried to say calmly, but he couldn’t move his eyes away from the thick, gloopy concoction swirling around the bowl in what he wanted to be slow, calming motions but did little to settle him. “I have loads more, and I can always print new ones it’s just-” He stopped stirring. “It’s just I can’t believe he cared so little that he would destroy something I worked so hard on.”

His last few words caught in his throat and came out as barely audible.

“It is a big deal,” Johnny said finally. “Because that is a massive fucking dick move. Not caring about a society, I can understand - there are some bullshit societies - but  _ burning _ a leaflet out of pure spite? That’s not okay.”

“Did you get his name, TY?” Yuta asked, and Taeyong could hear the wrath seeping through his tone. “And did he happen to mention where he lives? Not that I’m gonna burn his house down or anything, but did you get his address?”

Taeyong felt a stiff smile rise on his face.

“His name was Doyoung and no, he did not randomly tell me where he lives in the middle of calling my pamphlets ugly.”

Yuta let out an offended cluck and Johnny gasped dramatically.

“Okay now that’s too far,” Johnny said seriously. “Those pamphlets are gorgeous.”

“I know!” Taeyong whined, spooning abundant portions of mixture into a tray lined with cupcake cases. “And he told me they were shitty and I was ignorant, like he wasn’t the one defending dark magic.”

He opened the oven door again, with far less force this time, and placed the tray on one of the racks. He checked the progress of the brownies already in the oven before shutting the door again. He stalked over to the laundry horse and began to fold clothes, sorting them into neat piles.

He could see Johnny and Yuta looking at him with worry in their eyes, but didn’t feel like making eye contact, keeping his eyes fixed to the clothes in his hands. He watched them out of the corner in his eye as they exchanged a look and an entire non-verbal argument seemed to pass between them. Taeyong knew what it was about; he knew what was coming. Johnny sighed loudly as he conceded, turning away from Yuta to look at Taeyong when he walked back into the kitchen and leaned his back against the counter.

“Tyongie,” Johnny started, and Taeyong could tell he was being cautious, using the nickname he always did when he said something that might set Taeyong off, “when Doyoung did those things, it didn’t…” he stumbled around for the right words, “it didn’t cause anything… bad to happen, did it?”

And part of Taeyong wanted to get angry for being treated like a child. For them treading on eggshells around him as though the slightest wrong word or tone could push him into a spiral. Like he was some fragile porcelain doll. But Taeyong knew which part of him was telling him to do that, and it was a part he tried to not listen to as much as possible. And when Taeyong finally gathered the courage to look up and look his best friend in the eye, the sincere care and concern there held his tongue back. Something warm spread in his chest.

“It almost did,” Taeyong admitted, shame escaping through his words. “It was close. When he burned the pamphlet, I could feel it. After it happened, I had the shittiest migraine and it felt, well you guys know how it felt. And I was just going to go and hide in my room for a bit and wait for it to go away, but then I remembered movie night and what Dr Kim said about productivity being the enemy of negativity, so I started baking.”

“I’m proud of you, Tae,” Johnny said. And Taeyong could feel the truth in his words, could tell Johnny believed he was strong, not weak or fragile.

“Me too, TY,” Yuta said. “You’re a much better person than I am, and you make much better cakes.”

“That’s because I don’t try to cook them with magic and set fire to my own eyebrows, Yuta.”

“Speaking of fire,” Yuta said, touching his eyebrows protectively, “I’m still down to start one at that Doyoung guy's house. So, if anyone finds out his address, feel free to send it my way and then act like you know nothing if the police start asking you questions.”

Taeyong laughed, genuine and high-pitched. A satisfied smile broke out on Yuta’s face as he hopped off of the counter.

“Anyway, my lecture started ten minutes ago, so I’m gonna get going,” he said, ignoring Taeyong’s look of disbelief. “And in case I forget: party at the frat house Friday night. You’re both coming, no excuses,” he cut Taeyong off before he could even start complaining.

“Toodles.” He skipped out of the apartment, the door swinging shut happily behind him.

Taeyong let out an exasperated noise as he turned back to his baking, taking a glass bowl from Johnny’s hands just as he was going to start eating from it again. Johnny let out a disgruntled whine. Taeyong turned around so he wouldn’t see the pout he knew would be on Johnny’s face and give in.

“Could you roll out and cut the cookie dough?” he asked.

Johnny complied, but only after releasing a petulant whine. They worked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Taeyong removing his brownies from the oven and putting in a new batch of lemon cupcakes. Johnny whistled a light melody that carried through the small space of the apartment as he cut cookies into strange shapes, too stubborn to use a cookie-cutter, insisting that he was artistic enough to manage independently. Until Taeyong glimpsed a look at one of his lopsided attempts and forced the tool into his hands, his eyes leaving no room for argument.

Taeyong gazed at his excessive assortment of sweet treats for a moment, delight erupting gently in his chest. Dr Kim was right, productivity really left no room for negativity, not when he was so proud of what he’d created.

“Yong,” Johnny started, now placing thin cookies delicately onto a baking tray, “are you sure you’re okay? I will go fight this guy if it makes you feel better. Because, you know, if you tried you’d probably lose.”

“Ha ha,” Taeyong deadpanned before he continued in a much more honest tone, eyes focused on the smooth movements of Johnny lifting cookie dough carefully. “I am fine. I wasn’t earlier and I’m still pissed. But I’m not sad. Mostly I’m annoyed that this happened before our first light magic lecture because it’s going to be ten times harder now and I don’t want to look incapable in front of Dr Kim.”

“He’d never think that. He knows about everything and he’d never hold that against you.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. It’s just this nagging voice in the back of my head. But it’s fine. I can ignore it.” Taeyong said with confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “And with the Doyoung thing, there are people like that and it’s shitty but they exist but I can’t let them stop me from living my life, right?”

“Hmm, I wonder who told you that?” Johnny said with faux thoughtfulness and Taeyong laughed.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

Johnny surged forwards for a hug, and though it was slightly awkward due to the remaining ingredients coating both of their hands, Taeyong found himself sinking into Johnny’s warmth easily anyway. Johnny was comforting by nature. He was a walking beacon of calmness and reassurance that was dependable and stable no matter the circumstances. He was exactly what Taeyong, whose mind was often frenzied and chaotic needed in these moments. He was the anchor that secured Taeyong in the worst of storms.

“Okay, I told you about my shitty day now you have to tell me what’s going on with you and Ten,” Taeyong said sternly when he pulled away.

Johnny spluttered. Taeyong regarded him with an unyielding look as Johnny stumbled over his denial.

“Wha- what do you mean?” he said, taking on a far more blithe tone than appropriate. “Nothing is going on with me and Ten.”

“Johnny, I’ve been your best friend for like ten years, I can tell that you sound bitter when you say his name. Now come on. Tell me.”

Johnny sighed in defeat and reached for a cupcake, shoving it in its entirety into his mouth, “it’s just me being stupid. You know he’s launching his company thing soon?” Taeyong nodded. “Well, that’s literally what he spends all his time doing and whenever we're together - which is like never - it’s all he talks about and I get that it’s important but I’m his  _ boyfriend _ . And I’m super proud of him but I’m also super worried about him.”

Taeyong placed a comforting hand on Johnny’s arm, trying hard to ignore how disgusting his mouth looked when it was full of cake.

“It’s all gonna work out, I promise,” he said, hoping his words did as much to reassure Johnny as Johnny’s words did for him. “You two are literally soulmates. You’re like a constant in life and this isn’t going to come in between you. He’s going to launch his company, become a millionaire, and take you out to so many romantic places for you to take photos of that your cheesy heart will explode. Okay?”

“Okay,” Johnny said, but he still shoved another entire cupcake into his mouth.

Taeyong him patted him on the head, smiling slightly when Johnny closed his eyes in content.

Taeyong set about cleaning up the counter, washing up his utensils with Johnny thoroughly drying each one before replacing them in their respective cupboards.

“Also, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Johnny said, rubbing a tea towel over a wet bowl, “do you mind being the model for a photography project I want to do? I want to try experimenting with light magic. I think it’ll look  _ lit _ .”

“Yeah no, you cannot use the word  _ lit _ to describe actual lights. Or at all, really. But I will help your project so long as you stop trying to use slang, you old man.”

“I’m literally five months older than you,” Johnny frowned.

“And somehow you act like you’re fifty-six.”

Johnny tossed a wooden spoon at Taeyong’s head, which he dodged with practised ease.

“You have to pick that up and wash it again, you know.”

“Shut up.”

Johnny picked up the spoon.

 

Doyoung’s foot tapped excitedly under the lecture bench. His fingers thrummed against the desk as he waited for the lecture to start. The people around him all looked equally apprehensive. Everyone was looking around at each other, shooting nervous smiles and making polite introductions.

He kept checking his watch nervously, counting down the seconds until history would be made and he would be a part of it. He - Kim Dongyoung - was going to finally be able to study dark magic and learn about it and use it and write his thesis and then get his doctorate and everything was going to plan and no one could stop him. His mind drifted briefly to Taeyong’s crestfallen face but he pulled his thoughts away as soon as he caught himself. Nothing would stop him, not even beautiful boys with deep eyes and pretty hair and- Nothing. Nothing would get in his way.

He breathed heavily as a man Doyoung recognised from every newspaper article across the country, from the back of most of the dark magic books in existence, Professor Choi Sunho walked through the door.

A collective stunned silence fell across the lecture hall as every student watched him walk, steps falling heavily against the wooden floor. Doyoung found himself leaning gently over the desk as he observed the man lay his briefcase on his large desk and turn to address the class.

His face was old and sullen, but a smile streaked across it. He looked worn, mainly and Doyoung was unsettled by the strange edge to his smile. Doyoung silenced his discomfort, sure that it was just a product of being so experimental with dark magic his entire career. Wrinkles littered his forehead and the roots of his hair displayed distinct patches of grey, despite the obvious attempts to dye it back to black. His eyes seemed kind, but there was still something strange and unreadable there. Doyoung suppressed the shiver that threatened to run down his spine.

“Hello, my chosen fifty students,” he said loudly. And his voice was kind, if a little higher-pitched than Doyoung would have assumed. “Welcome to Korea’s first dark magic university course. I know you are all eager to get started, but there is a reason it has taken so long for this to happen and that is because dark magic, if not used in a moral and right way, is dangerous and harmful. And so, our first few lectures will be spent learning about the ethics behind the use of dark magic.”

A groan ran out in the class and Professor Choi chuckled. Doyoung felt that disappointment in him, too and struggled to not let it show. Ethics was important and it wouldn’t last long. It was fine.

“Okay, ethics is always a debatable topic and I would love to hear your opinions, so let’s get right into it.” Choi scanned a list of names. “Chae Hyungwon,” he said, and a tall lanky boy sat near the back raised his arm, “what do you think are some acceptable scenarios in which to use dark magic against someone? Is it ever justified?”

Doyoung tuned out when Hyungwon started to answer, uninterested. He flicked absentmindedly through a textbook instead, the actual practical use of dark magic far more compelling to him than the philosophy behind it.

“Kim Dongyoung?”

Doyoung’s head shot up.

“What is your opinion on those who use dark magic on others?”

“Well,” Doyoung started, quickly trying to organise his thoughts into a response that would demonstrate him as smart, not a floundering idiot, “anyone who uses any type of magic to hurt someone else is typically not a good person. But if it is justified, like in self-defence, then I don’t see why dark magic should be off the table. If you know how to use it, use it - same with all magic types.”

Choi hummed thoughtfully, turning to the class, “does anyone have anything to say to that?”

A boy to the side of the hall raised his hand hesitantly, and his face was very red.

“Yes,” Choi gestured to him, pausing for the boy to say his name.

“Um, Mark - Lee Mark - Sir,” the boy said, his voice shaking slightly. And when he continued, he spoke in argument to Doyoung, but kept his gaze fixed firmly on the front of the hall. “I think that, um, dark magic has effects that like can’t be rectified as easily as other magic types. You can’t just get, like, a healing spell for it or something. And its effects are just so much more devastating than others that you can’t really compare it. So, um - yeah - I don’t think it’s ever justified against another human really. No matter the circumstances."

Their professor nodded in encouragement. “Both very good points,” he said, turning to the board as he continued. “This is why these ethics lessons are important, because we need to understand the effects of dark magic before we can learn to create it. You need to know the power you hold and how you should be using it.”

Doyoung tightened his grip around his pen, ready to start taking notes.

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, TY,” Johnny panted loudly as they ran. “Why did you put the bloody cookies in so late?”

“Shut up, Johnny, you’re the one who insisted on making gingerbread!” Taeyong could barely get the words out as they sprinted through campus. Taeyong was considerably physically weaker than Johnny, so he was a few steps behind and it was taking everything out of him to keep up.

“Why don’t we have a clock in the apartment?” Johnny shouted over his shoulder. “I swear I told you to get one.”

“No, you dipshit. We both agreed that we didn’t need one because we both own phones so it would be a pointless waste of money.”

Taeyong stopped running to catch his breath and Johnny did the same when he heard Taeyong’s footsteps stop thundering frantically against the path.

“You okay, Tae?” Johnny asked, worry brewing in his eyes.

And Taeyong hated this. Hated that he couldn’t run for five minutes without needing a break, hated that his body was so weak, hated that he had to be a source of worry to his friends.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Taeyong lied. “You can keep going. Explain to Kim that I’ll be a bit later.”

“Nope,” Johnny popped. “We’re going together and we’ll go slowly. It’s just a lecture; people are late all the time.”

Taeyong felt gratitude mix with shame in his gut but smiled through it anyway.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

 

Taeyong and Johnny burst through the lecture hall’s door fifteen minutes late, both sweating and breathing just a bit harder than usual.

“Ah, Mr Seo, Mr Lee,” Dr Kim said, stopping whatever he had been saying to fix them both with an unimpressed look, “how nice of you to finally join us.”

Taeyong felt himself go red with embarrassment but Johnny next to him remained seemingly unaffected.

“Sorry, Sir,” Johnny said with an easy smile, “baking mishap.”

Kim raised an eyebrow at Taeyong who nodded to confirm, walking to where the professor stood at the front of the hall. He opened the plastic tub in his hands to reveal a selection of cupcakes decorated with light pink icing.

“Couldn’t let the cookies burn,” he offered as an excuse, offering the tub to Kim.

Kim appraised the cakes before taking two and resting them on his desk.

“Fine,” he said with exaggerated resignation, “I’ll let you off because I know you make delicious cupcakes, but I do expect punctuality from my students. Be on time next lecture. Now go sit down.”

Taeyong smiled gratefully at his teacher. He was about to turn and climb the steps to his seat when he heard a loud tut echo through the room.

He and Johnny both turned their gaze to whoever made the noise and Taeyong felt a multitude of emotions crawl through his mind. The most prominent of them all: shock and anger.

Doyoung sat in the middle of one of the rows, notebook open in front of him and pen tapping with annoyance against the page.  _ Why was he here? _ They held eye contact for a few moments, Doyoung shooting him a look that conveyed a definite sense of being pissed off. And Taeyong knew that same sentiment was reflected in his own eyes.

He looked away when Dr Kim cleared his throat and walked to his seat. Though he could still feel Doyoung’s eyes boring into him as he sat down.

“Okay class, as I was saying,” Dr Kim resumed his lesson, but Taeyong could not find it in him to concentrate on what he was saying.

“TY?” Johnny asked quietly. “You good?”

“That’s him.”

“Who?” Johnny questioned, confusion clear.

“That guy with black hair in the middle row. That’s Doyoung.” Taeyong managed to get out.

“That’s him?” Johnny leant forwards in his seat to look at him, as unsubtlely as a person could possibly be and Taeyong quickly pulled him back to sit in his chair properly. “That’s the bastard.”

Taeyong could feel Johnny turn to look at him, eyes melting from their rage into something gentler, even as Taeyong stared blankly at the desk in front of him.

“Do you want to leave?” Johnny asked, voice impossibly quiet now.

Taeyong shook his head. He let out a shaky breath and looked up determinedly. He would not let this get in the way of his education. Not when he had worked so hard to be there.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispered, hoping that saying it would make it true.

Johnny’s hand found his under the desk and he squeezed it tightly. He could do this. He was fine.

 

“I actually can’t do it,” Taeyong whined, after repeating the same incantation for what could’ve easily been the fiftieth time.

Johnny gave him his classic  _ you’re being dramatic _ look - one he had perfected after so much time with both Taeyong and Ten being key figures in his life.

“Yes, you can,” he said with a tone that left no room for protest. “It’s just the stupid part of your brain telling you can’t. And what do we do to that part of the brain?”

“We ignore it,” Taeyong mumbled.

“Good dog.”

Taeyong swatted Johnny on the head as he laughed raucously.

“Okay,” he said to himself, “I’ve got this.”

He focused himself, imagining nothing but pure white light. He thought of baking and the smells of febreeze and the first song Mark ever wrote and how it was shit but he’d looked so proud of it. He felt the familiar warmth seep pleasantly through his veins, entwining with his blood. And just as he felt it break the surface of his fingertips, just as light began to glow from below his skin, something pulled it back,

And suddenly all he could think was fire and darkness and Doyoung and a hospital bed and  _ broken _ and  _ not good enough _ . And the light was extinguished, the warmth flooded with a stinging cold. Taeyong took a sharp intake of breath and was certain his aura had changed because everyone turned to look at him. He faced downwards, feeling his ears burn under the attention.

“I don’t got this,” he muttered bitterly under his breath, trying to diffuse the tension and get Johnny to stop staring at him with such stark worry.

“Good work today, class,” Kim called from the front, effectively gathering everyone’s attention. “You’re free to go.”

Taeyong sighed miserably as he gathered his things. He could feel Doyoung’s eyes piercing into him as he walked past where Taeyong sat, but couldn’t find the strength to even muster a glare at him. He heard Johnny stand up next to him but remained seated, studying his fingertips as if they were the reason he was a failure. He rose to his feet when Johnny tapped him on the head and made his way down the steps.

“Taeyong,” Kim said when he reached the bottom, “speak to me for a moment.”

Taeyong trudged to stand by his professor’s desk while Johnny signalled that he’d wait outside.

“I know it’s the first lesson back and we’re all a bit rusty,” Kim started, “but you weren’t able to create anything, Taeyong.”

“I know. I’m so sorry. I was trying so hard, I swear. It’s just some stuff happened this morning and it’s making light magic harder than usual.”

“Something with Mr Kim Doyoung, perchance?”

Taeyong looked up to meet the professor’s knowing eyes.

“H- how?” he stuttered.

“I feel I would have had to be blind to not notice the way he was glaring at you for the most part of my lesson. Though I did not manage to figure out why; I was hoping you’d tell me?”

“I asked him to join my society and then he burned my pamphlet.”

“Ah,” Dr Kim said. “Right. Yes. I’d say that’s a good enough reason to have a little trouble with light magic. Don’t let things like that bring you down, though. You’re stronger than that Taeyong.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Okay now get out and bake some more, I’ll see you next lesson.”

“See you, sir,” Taeyong called before leaving the classroom.

As he exited, a heavy arm threw itself around his shoulders and Johnny looked at him quizzically.

“It was fine,” Taeyong said, and it was the truth. “He said he understood.”

“See?” Johnny said, a confident smile showing itself. “Told you. Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah. Nothing to worry about,” Taeyong echoed, the words hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isnt a johnyong au and doyoung gets better soon i swear
> 
> also if you read my other fic you'll know this but im going on hiatus for a bit cos i have exams starting monday that dont finish til mid june so i wont have time to write :(
> 
> t(hank) y(ou) for reading if youve made it this far!!  
> please validate me by leaving comments and kudos cos they keep me writing
> 
> i will still be active on twitter if anyone wants to scream with me
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/whatisanult)   
>  [CC](https://curiouscat.me/whatisanult)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first of all i am so so so sorry that this chapter took so long. i had the worst writers block with it and i was trying real hard but it just wasn't working
> 
> anyway its here now and i really hope it was worth the wait 
> 
> as always huge thanks to caitlin for getting me to focus enough to write this and proofreading <3
> 
> please enjoy x

"For the last time, we are not watching Princess Mononoke again."

Jungwoo’s voice cut across to the kitchen from the living room and Taeyong laughed, the spatula in his hand shaking with the movement.

"Why not?" Yuta’s indignant voice rang out. "It’s an artistic masterpiece."

"We watch it every time."

"Exactly! It’s tradition."

"No, it’s you being obsessed with animations." 

Taeyong tipped the contents of his pan onto a plate and started to carry it into the living room. He had just enough time to see Yuta showing off an exaggerated pout as put the plate onto the coffee table before he was leaving again. Yuta’s voice chased him as he walked to the kitchen, meek and small all of a sudden.

"It just… It reminds me of home, you know?"

Taeyong heard a loud _thump_ followed by a whine of pain from Yuta.

"You cannot play the homesick card every time," Jungwoo said loudly, exasperation clear in his voice. "You literally got back from Japan two weeks ago."

"It was worth a shot," Yuta said, petulant.

"If you guys are finished, can you please help me carry some of this stuff into the living room?" Taeyong called out.

"Right! Sorry, Yong."

Within seconds, the two of them were in the kitchen. The pair of them each cast a simple levitation charm on a few plates each and guided them onto the coffee table. Yuta’s landed with a significantly louder noise than Jungwoo’s.

Yuta dropped ungracefully to the floor, grabbing a plate and starting to pile food onto it. Jungwoo sat in the corner of the sofa and Taeyong settled in next to him, tucking his feet beneath himself.

"Why don’t we wait ‘til Kun gets here to choose the film?" Taeyong suggested, reaching forward to get himself a plate. "Kun always chooses something we’ll all like."

He piled a mixture of brownies and cupcakes onto his plate and sat back, offering one to Jungwoo.

"How was your test, Yuta?"

"Smashed it," Yuta said, grinning through a mouthful of rice. "Park looked so pissed off when I handed it in early."

"Only because I reminded you to study."

"No," Yuta said indignantly, "because I am a genius."

Taeyong heard the door to the apartment open and was grateful for it, glad Kun had arrived just before Yuta and Jungwoo could start throwing spells around and risk knocking over the food he had made.

"Kun, we’re in here," he called out, taking another bite from his brownie.

Kun walked into the living room, setting his bag down on the floor. Another man walked in behind him, looking around nervously and fidgeting with his hands.

Taeyong sat up slightly and felt Jungwoo do the same next to him.

This new man was tall and thin, each of his steps hesitant as he entered the room, as though he didn’t want to intrude. His gaze kept finding Kun, who gave him an encouraging smile before turning to address the room.

"This is Sicheng," he announced, a bright smile on his face. Sicheng waved awkwardly. "He’s here on an exchange programme from China and I met him at society tonight. Sicheng, this is Yuta, Taeyong, and Jungwoo."

Kun pointed at them each in turn, and Taeyong offered a warm smile and little wave before turning his attention back to Kun, questioning.

"Sicheng’s roommate has sexiled him for the night and, because he’s new, he doesn’t really have any other friends he can stay with so I invited him to join us."

Kun met Taeyong’s eyes and Taeyong could see the plea behind them so he nodded quickly, gesturing to the table.

"Yeah, of course, it’s no problem," Taeyong sounded flustered even to his own ears and he willed himself to tone it down, putting on the kindest smile he could manage. "Take a seat and have as much food as you like. Sorry about your roommate, though. That sucks."

Sicheng seemed to take a moment to process the words before he nodded.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

His voice was accented, and surprisingly deep but he seemed genuinely grateful. The corners of his mouth tilted up in a small smile and Taeyong responded with a full-on grin of his own, hoping it would help him to open up. Sicheng sat himself awkwardly on the armchair next to the sofa.

"Kun, help us pick a film," Taeyong whined, trying to take attention off from where Sicheng looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Kun took the remote from Jungwoo’s hand and began flicking through the films. Taeyong watched as Yuta, still sat beneath them on the floor, began moving an assortment of food and sweets onto a new plate. He turned to offer the plate to Sicheng, a blinding smile on his face.

"I’m not sure what you like, but Yongie’s the best chef on campus and his food is so good," Yuta whispered.

Sicheng accepted the plate, his own smile growing and he shuffled in his seat slightly into a more comfortable position. Yuta sat back, turning to face the TV again with a satisfied smile on his face.

"This one?" Kun asked, pausing on a film.

The group of them made noises of approval so he selected it and leant back into the sofa next to Taeyong. The opening credits began to roll and Yuta started off on some tale about the annoying freshmen pledging at his frat. 

Taeyong leant over so that he was close to Kun’s ear when he whispered, "is Sicheng shy or is he just not fluent in Korean yet?"

"A bit of both, I think," Kun said, "he was a bit more talkative during the meet when he could speak Chinese."

Taeyong hummed thoughtfully.

"Do you know anything about what he likes? Only I don’t want him to be uncomfortable around us."

"Um," Kun thought for a moment, "he liked my optical illusions. That’s why he started talking to me."

"So all we know about him is that he likes your magic tricks?"

"I guess."

"Right."

Taeyong leant back to his other side, nestling into Jungwoo’s side easily. Jungwoo slung an arm around his shoulders and used his other hand to feed himself rice, quietly praising Taeyong for how it tasted. Taeyong felt himself smile as he ate his brownie.

Yuta was still speaking when Jungwoo cut across him with a loud noise of disgust, causing Yuta to stop and stare at him, looking offended.

"Could you not shovel food into your mouth like a neanderthal? We want Sicheng to think we’re at least a little civilised."

"Oh, so sorry, Jungwoo," Yuta mocked with faux hysteria. "What is this again? Your sixth meal of the day?”

“Oh, bite me, Nakamoto."

"Guys!" Kun’s exasperated voice broke through the din and they both looked at him guiltily when Kun shot them reprimanding looks.

Taeyong couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him and loved the warmth that spread in his chest when the others joined in. Even Sicheng seemed to be giggling slightly. Taeyong sent another grin his way and felt it widen even more when Sicheng sent him one back.

"Welcome to movie night, Sicheng."

  


"I just don’t know what you’re trying to say."

"I think you do."

Doyoung paused for a moment. He recognised that voice ‒ could recognise it anywhere. 

He was walking home after working the closing shift at the coffee shop. It was that strange time between sunset and darkness, where everything was tinted grey. Campus was mostly deserted, bar the few students like himself, but it was very quiet. His earphones were broken, projecting nothing but a crinkling static into his ears so he could hear these voices easily despite not being able to see the people they belonged to.

"Okay, you’re right. I do know what you’re saying and it’s bullshit."

Both of the voices were strained, increasing in volume as they continued to argue but one was distinctly angrier than the other. 

"You’re being selfish."

A scoff.

Doyoung had to make a decision: continue to walk the shortest route to his apartment or rapidly cut across the grass and hide until they had passed. He was seriously in favour of the latter when the couple turned the corner, and the decision was made for him.

Ten seemed surprised when he saw him, and it pulled him out of the annoyance that had clearly been on his face beforehand. He offered Doyoung a small wave and a grimace but Doyoung didn’t respond, too distracted by the giant currently glaring at him from where he stood at Ten’s side.

Doyoung recognised him as the guy that had been with Taeyong at his light magic lecture earlier in the day and responded to his glare in full force, pushing as much distaste into it as he possibly could.

Vaguely, he registered Ten looking between them, confusion evident on his face before the giant was walking towards him, a power to each of his steps that instinctively made Doyoung want to shrink back and made the glare on his face falter.

Ten was close behind him, confusion now mixing with a slight apprehension.

"You!" the giant said, pointing a finger at Doyoung as he walked and oh shit, he was even bigger up close. Doyoung only just managed to stop himself from blanching.

"Me," Doyoung said back, proud of himself when his voice didn’t shake and reveal his very real fear.

The giant shot him a derisive look and his face became somehow even angrier.

"You two know each other?" Ten said questioningly, putting himself between the two of them. Doyoung felt gratitude melt through him at the barrier he created. Even if it didn’t do much, he appreciated the effort.

The anger on the giant’s face flashed into something like shock, gaze flickering between the two of them. Back and forth for almost an entire minute as he pieced something together and Doyoung tried to secretly make himself look taller.

Something clicked in the giant’s mind and his mouth dropped open in what Doyoung could only describe as flabbergast.

" _Kim_ Doyoung," he said.

"That is my name, yes," Doyoung said and immediately regretted it when the giant shot him a scathing look.

"Tae didn’t say your surname but I _knew_ you looked familiar."

"Tae?" Ten asked, still looking very puzzled. "What does Taeyong have to do with Doyoung?"

The giant either didn’t hear Ten or ignored him. Whichever it was, Ten looked decidedly miffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Part of Doyoung’s mind wanted to throw an arm around his friend’s shoulder and give him a hug. The other, larger, part was preoccupied with how Ten apparently knew not only Taeyong’s extremely scary friend but also Taeyong himself.

"I can’t believe I didn’t realise you were the same Doyoung."

"How?" Ten’s voice was very irritated now, and Doyoung remembered that they’d been in the middle of an argument before they’d seen him. "It’s not exactly a common name, is it? It’s not even his real name. How many Doyoungs do you know?"

"Well I _thought_ two," the giant shot back, his attention now focused entirely on Ten. At the back of his mind, Doyoung found himself wondering how Ten did not seem intimidated at all, instead seeming to almost grow in size, rising up to the challenge. It was probably just because Ten was insane. That was the answer to most things.

"But now I realise there’s only one and he’s a complete dick." Ouch. "But maybe it only took me so long to figure out because I didn’t want to believe that the person who’s been terrorising my best friend-" maybe a bit harsh, Doyoung wouldn’t have put it that way, "and my boyfriend’s best friend are the same person."

Oh. _Oh_. Doyoung felt his own realisation come upon him.

The giant was Johnny. Ten’s boyfriend. Who also happened to be Taeyong’s best friend and hence, hated Doyoung. Oh, shit.

"Hold up," Ten said, shaking his head and turning to look at Doyoung, "terrorising Taeyong?"

"I have not been terrorising him," Doyoung said indignantly. "He harassed me on my way to my lecture and I responded in kind."

"Harassed? Taeyong?" Ten questioned, eyebrows raised. "That doesn’t sound like him."

"You should have heard him, Ten. He was getting all in my face, screaming at me that dark magic is evil and how anyone who practises it is evil. He wasn’t rational and all of his arguments were founded in misconceptions ‒ if you’re going to bother people going about their lives, at least make sure your reasons are well-founded and factually accurate."

"I think you’d find that Taeyong knows more about dark magic than some snobby arsehole one lecture into the course ever could," Johnny snarled.

Ten put a hand on Johnny’s chest, seemingly to placate him even as worry was evident on Ten’s own face.

"And then he has the audacity," Doyoung continued, looking Johnny straight in the eyes as anger overcame his survival instinct, "to show up late to a lecture I am paying to learn from, disrupt the lesson and he gets away with it, why? Because he baked the professor cakes? And I thought Dr Kim was meant to be a no-nonsense professor. That’s why I took his class. Not to mention Taeyong didn’t contribute or create anything the entire lesson."

Out of the corner of his eye, Doyoung could see Ten fix Johnny with a look too deep for him to understand fully, though frustration was obvious there. But Johnny’s face was furious and nothing else. Doyoung didn’t miss the way Ten’s hand tightened, gripping harder at Johnny’s shirt and visibly straining as Johnny seemed to surge forwards.

Doyoung took a step back.

"And whose fault do you think that is, Doyoung?" Johnny’s voice was quieter now and Doyoung didn’t like the way he said his name ‒ as though it were an insult.

"Okay," Ten said, pushing back on Johnny’s chest with more force, a serious note to his voice that Johnny clearly recognised, that made him break out of his anger for a moment and look at his boyfriend. "What exactly did Doyoung do to Tae? I’m not sure whose side I’m on here."

"I didn’t do any-"

Ten cut him off with a look. Doyoung frowned; his best friend clearly knew him far too well.

Johnny seemed to take a moment to decide on what to say, staring blankly at Ten. When he did finally speak it was dark, purposeful and his gaze was focused solely on Doyoung, making him feel exposed.

"He set Taeyong’s pamphlet on fire."

Doyoung was prepared to roll his eyes but stopped himself short when he saw Ten’s mouth fall fully agape. Ten’s grip on Johnny’s shirt slackened slightly.

"Did you really?" Ten asked in a hushed whisper, as though Johnny wasn’t standing literal inches away from them.

Doyoung nodded slowly, feeling very small all of a sudden.

"Is Tae alright?" Ten’s voice was laced with an urgency Doyoung rarely heard. Something dense moved in his gut.

"He’s fine. Now," Johnny said curtly.

Confusion and exasperation directed his next words, took them straight from his mouth.

"Is it really that big of a deal? It was only a piece of fucking paper."

And then Johnny was looming over him, fire practically coming out of his eyes and smoke from his ears.

"A piece of fucking paper?!" he shouted, too loud, voice grating against the quiet of the evening. He opened his mouth again, noise already coming from the back of his throat before Ten cut him off, pushing him firmly backwards before he could crowd into Doyoung’s space anymore.

"Cool it, Johnny," Ten wasn’t shouting, but he was close. "Lay off Doyoung. He didn’t know it was so important to Tae."

"It was still a shitty thing to do. He shouldn’t have done it."

Johnny was almost ignoring Doyoung now, anger directed at Ten.

"You’re right, but you can’t get so angry at him when he didn’t know. I’m sure Taeyong wasn’t being too nice either ‒ you know how he gets when he’s talking about DM. It’s impossible to get through to him."

"Of course you’re taking his side," Johnny threw his hands in the air and took a step backwards, shaking his head at Ten in disbelief. "How are you blaming Tae for this? When you know-" He broke off, throwing a cautious glance in Doyoung’s direction. Doyoung couldn’t help the curiosity that built in his chest.

"But it shouldn’t surprise me, really," Johnny continued, "when you don’t really have time for us anymore." His last words were less angry, but they were cuttingly bitter and Doyoung suddenly felt like he was intruding on something private.

Ten’s face hardened and he let out a sharp breath through his nose.

"I’m not having this discussion with you right now."

"Oh no, of course not!" Johnny’s voice was somehow getting louder as he went on. "You’d rather defend your best friend for fucking with mine! You do remember that he’s meant to be your friend, too? Or do you not have time for him, either, now?"

"Johnny, you’re being childish." Ten was cut-throat, blunt. It was hard for Doyoung to believe Ten was speaking to the same person Doyoung had heard him gush about with stark affection for the last year.

"And you’re being an insensitive prick." Hurt was so clear in Johnny’s words and Doyoung could tell Ten heard it, too. He saw the way his expression faltered ‒ but only for a moment before he replaced it with something stony.

They all stood in silence as time passed. Doyoung was looking awkwardly at the floor, trying not to squirm with how tense the air was.

He only just saw Johnny sigh and shake his head before he muttered out, "I’m already late for movie night," with something like disappointment in his tone.

Johnny pushed past them both, stalking off in the direction Doyoung had just come from. His steps were heavy.

Several beats passed, enough that they could no longer hear Johnny’s footsteps, and Ten let out a long, shaky breath.

Without hesitation, Doyoung rid himself of his discomfort and anger, wrapping his arms easily around Ten. He held him close to his chest and felt Ten’s arms come to circle tightly around his waist.

"I’m sorry, Tennie," he said softly, "you didn’t have to do that for me."

"You shouldn’t have burned Yongie’s leaflet." Ten was speaking into the fabric of Doyoung’s shirt, his voice muffled and thick with something else.

Doyoung didn’t say anything.

"And Johnny shouldn’t have gotten that mad. But he was angry at me already and he took it out on you and I wasn’t going to just let him."

Doyoung gripped Ten tighter.

"Thank you, Tennie. I mean it. Johnny’ll come around, I’m sure. If he’s at least half as head-over-heels for you as you are for him, you’ll be fine."

"Your first meeting definitely could have gone better though," Ten said, some of his usual mirth lurking behind his words.

"Could have gone worse, too," Doyoung said lightly.

Ten snorted.

  


When Johnny got home, Taeyong instantly knew something was off.

He didn’t shout to signal his arrival, or grab a plate and start piling it with food, he didn’t notice they had an entirely new person lounging on their armchair, and he didn’t have the stupid goofy grin he always had after spending time with Ten. He engineered himself between Taeyong and Kun on the sofa and Taeyong prised himself away from a sleeping Jungwoo’s hold to let himself melt into Johnny’s form.

Taeyong turned his head up to look at him, worry flashing through him at the redness of Johnny’s eyes, the tension to the small smile Johnny offered him. Taeyong brought a hand up to card through his friend’s hair in a silent question.

Johnny easily understood and whispered, "I’ll tell you later. Promise." before turning his attention back to the TV.

Taeyong gave in, also facing the TV again. But he kept his hand threaded through Johnny’s hair and the other rubbing small circles into Johnny’s palm. He couldn’t really focus on the movie for the rest of the night, anyway.

  
  


The next morning was a strange one, but it was nice. They didn’t have enough sofas and their beds were too small for everyone to stay, so their friends all shuffled home half-asleep around four. Taeyong had been ready to immediately interrogate Johnny, but one look at his best friend’s exhausted face and Taeyong had sent him straight to bed.

His curiosity could wait until morning.

He woke Johnny up just after noon with a cup of black coffee. He sat perched on the edge of his bed, carefully avoiding sitting on any plushies, as Johnny sipped at it and blinked away the sleep in his eyes. It was a rare occasion that Taeyong woke up before Johnny and it made concern clutch at his heart even tighter.

Taeyong let Johnny speak in his own time, a mix of emotions flooding through him as Johnny recounted what had happened last night.

"Doyoung is Ten’s best friend?" Taeyong asked incredulously.

That didn’t make sense. Ten was wonderful and funny and talented and Doyoung was… well, a dick. He told Johnny as such, but Johnny only laughed without any humour.

"I know," he said wryly.

"It’ll be fine," Taeyong said, pushing as much conviction into his words as he could. "Thank you for sticking up for me."

"Always." Johnny managed a small but genuine smile.

"You were both angry; Ten probably just felt caught in the middle and shocked and confused and said things he didn’t mean. You’ll get through this. I know you will."

"Thanks, Yong."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Johnny nursing his cup of coffee and Taeyong fidgeting around with Johnny’s whale plushie ‒ Blue ‒ as he thought.

It had really messed up his world. He associated Ten with all the things he loved: dance, laughter, and Johnny. And his mind sorted Doyoung with everything negative and bad. It was disconcerting to have the two halves of his world collide. He didn’t like it. And now, Doyoung had done more than just mess Taeyong up ‒ he’d put Ten in a horrible position between his best friend and his boyfriend and it had hurt both Ten and Johnny.

Kim Doyoung had crashed into his life with all the grace of a flaming drum kit: noisy and destructive. And it seemed that he wasn’t going to leave soon. In fact, he just seemed to be spreading to infect everyone in his life. And Taeyong would not allow that to happen. He would not let another narcissistic, power-obsessed dark magic user wreak havoc in his life.

Johnny pulled him out of his thoughts, clearly sensing the sudden change in his aura.

"What have you got planned for tonight?" His tone was forcefully bright.

Taeyong pushed the negativity down. He couldn’t let Doyoung worm his way into his life when he wasn’t even there.

"Well," he started, summoning energy he didn’t have. It became easier when Johnny’s smile became more relaxed. "It’s only the first meet back, so we’re just going to welcome everyone back and hope we have some new members."

"We will, Pres. Who could resist those gorgeous pamphlets?"

The obvious answer remained unsaid.

  


This wasn’t bad, Taeyong thought. Two minutes until the first Anti-Dark Magic Society meet of the year officially began and, although most of the faces were familiar, there were a few new ones. Pride ran through him when he saw a few holding his pamphlets. There weren’t too many of them, but it was enough.

He was happy when Sicheng had showed up with Yuta and greeted him as they’d come in. Sicheng was smiling more today.

One minute left and Mark and Donghyuck burst through the door, both sweaty and panting. Mark looked up, eyes darting around the room before they found Taeyong where he was stood at the front.

 _We made it,_ he mouthed at him, looking very proud of himself.

Taeyong shot them a thumbs up. _Barely,_ he mouthed back.

The long hand of the clock on the wall ticked to the twelve and Taeyong clapped his hands twice to gather the room’s attention. The chatter died down quickly and everyone turned to face him.

"Hello and welcome to the Anti-Dark Magic Society’s first meet of the year!"

A cheer ran out. Johnny and Donghyuck were easily the loudest.

"My name is Lee Taeyong and I’m the president. This is Seo Johnny," he gestured to where Johnny was stood next to him, "my vice-president. And Kun, here, is our treasurer. I am very happy and thankful that you chose to join this society as it is very important to me. Together, we can implement change and I’m excited to see what we can do."

Another cheer went around and Taeyong thanked them again, bowing.

"Okay! It’s only our first meet so please feel free to get to know everyone. We have drinks and snacks so feel free to mingle.”

He could see Donghyuck start to open his mouth to make fun of him for saying _mingle_ so he signalled to Yuta to start the music and quickly darted into the crowd to greet the new recruits.

He loved talking to these new members, listening to the reasons why they joined, hearing about the things they wanted to do. It was nice to talk to them, not just about things related to dark magic, either. He loved being president of his own society.

He spoke briefly to Mark and Donghyuck, more to tell them not to drink too much ‒ or at all, if Taeyong had his way ‒ than anything else.

“Classes are good for both of you?”

“Yes, Tae,” Mark droned in that younger brother way of his.

“You’re enjoying music, then? No regrets?”

“No, Tae.”

“And Donghyuck? Are you okay with him as a roommate? Living with someone can really put a strain on your relationship.”

“God, Tae,” Mark said, exasperated, but there was a fondness there that told Taeyong it was fine really, “everything’s good. I promise. If I had a problem, you’d be the first to know. You’d probably even know it before I did.”

“Okay, okay.” Taeyong ruffled Mark’s hair. He knew he could be a bit overbearing sometimes, but he felt like he had to be. Mark was used to it anyway, and, besides, it wasn’t like he wasn’t the same to Taeyong.

“You’re doing okay, yeah, Tae?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, Markie,” Taeyong said, patting his head again. “Okay, go enjoy yourself ‒ don’t drink too much!”

About an hour or so in, Yuta slid in next to him as he was refilling his drink ‒ only soda, he was too much of a lightweight to have anything else.

“You see that group over there,” he whispered in Taeyong’s ear. 

Taeyong did see, but only because Yuta was entirely unsubtle about the way he pointed right at them. It was a group of three girls and two guys, all people Taeyong remembered giving leaflets to but hadn’t had the chance to speak with at the meet yet.

“They are definitely only here because they think you’re cute.”

Taeyong’s ears flushed red and he pushed Yuta’s arm indignantly.

“That is not true. Shut up,” he hissed. He quickly shot a smile at the group to hopefully convince them Yuta wasn’t being rude about them. All of them erupted into a loud barrage of giggles.

Yuta gave him a pointed look, which Taeyong ignored in favour of turning to face Jungwoo who was walking towards them.

“You ready to say your thing, Yong?”

“Yep,” Taeyong chirped, “any excuse to get away from Yuta.”

Yuta let out a pained squawk when they both laughed at him. Taeyong walked back to the front of the room and called for everyone’s attention.

“I hope you’re all having a good time so far.” A cheer told him they were and relief flooded through him. “Well I have a bit of an announcement. Our faculty representative, Dr Kim, as you all know, is a very big advocate against the legalisation of dark magic and after its legalisation was announced-” a few boos, “he started writing a book on why he believes it should be made illegal again.”

Everyone cheered and Taeyong felt a smile bloom on his face.

“Because of his credibility and how much he’s respected as a scholar, we really hope this book might be our biggest change at getting the change we want. And some of you might be asking: how is this different to the papers he wrote and speeches he delivered when the debate was ongoing? And the answer is that this book is going to be the perfect blend between explaining the science behind dark magic and personal stories from people closer to home than the examples the blog posts always use.

The book will also be timed with other events that we have planned, in our hopes to make a noise so loud they can’t ignore it. We will not censor or romanticise any of the effects of dark magic; it will be a wake-up call to everyone who does not know what it is like: raw and unfiltered.

The reason I’m telling you all this is that we need more volunteers for the biography sections of the book. Obviously, this is entirely optional and if you cannot or do not want to be involved, there are many other ways you can show support. If you wish to remain anonymous, then, of course, you can. We really might have a chance with this book, but we need to show everyone just how horrific dark magic is for it to work.

Please, take as long as you need to think about it, and, if you decide that you’d like to participate, please just email me. Thank you all so much.”

Taeyong bowed again as the society applauded him and started talking amongst themselves again. His own friends came up to stand with him, each giving him a quick hug and word of praise.

He’d done it. They might have a chance. Adrenaline was flowing easily through Taeyong and he could scarcely keep still. He felt drunk even though he was sober.

It was Johnny who stood by his side as he looked over his ‒ _his_ ‒ society and whispered, so soft he could barely hear it, in his ear, “are you sure about this, Tyongie? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

It was because it was Johnny, who knew his dilemmas and his doubts, who stood by him despite everything that Taeyong took the time to think over his answer before he gave it. He searched himself for the truth and when he found himself unafraid but, rather, excited, a fantastic grin spread over his face.

“I’m so sure, Johnny.” He found Johnny’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’m so, so sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so ik doyoungs not coming across too great rn but i love him so much and he will redeem himself also there will be a lot more dotae interaction next chapter i promise
> 
> again im so so sorry this took so long but i really wanted to give you a chapter that i could be proud of and it sadly took a while 
> 
> please validate me by leaving kudos or comments and feel free to come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/whatisanult) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/whatisanult)
> 
> i promise the next update will be much sooner <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats an enemies to lovers fic without a house party, really?
> 
> as always big thanks to caitlin for proofreading <33
> 
> drink responsibly guys, and enjoy x

 

Doyoung placed the coffee on the counter with too much force, and some of the liquid splashed onto his hand. He didn’t feel it though, the scorching sensation seemed to match the hot anger thrumming through him.

Jaehyun eyed the messy sides of his cup with thinly veiled distaste. He grabbed a napkin from the side and wiped the excess coffee away.

“Thanks,” he said in a very ungrateful way.

Doyoung didn’t hear him, leaning the majority of his weight on the counter and sighing heavily.

“How is my life so horribly contrived? It’s ridiculous! What shit-all luck must I have for Johnny to be both Ten’s boyfriend and my arch-nemesis’ best friend?”

“Is he your arch-nemesis now?” Jaehyun said, still watching the way his coffee sloshed precariously inside the cup every time Doyoung slammed his fist against the counter. “Is he aware of his upgraded status?”

“You think I talk to him?” Doyoung stared Jaehyun right in the eyes, voice deadpan. “You think I email him weekly updates about our relationship status?”

“Well, no, because who uses email to communicate in this day and age?”

Doyoung made some sort of mocking noise ‒ partway between fake laughter and a scoff.

“My point is, Doyoung, I get why you don’t like this guy ‒ he sounds like a self-entitled asshole ‒ but it’s really not his fault that his friend is also Ten’s boyfriend. And that doesn’t really warrant him being your arch-nemesis?”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung said. Jaehyun groaned. “I painstakingly made you your favourite drink-”

“It’s literally your job,” Jaehyun muttered, but Doyoung ignored him.

“I let you sit in my café.”

“It’s not yours-”

“And you don’t even have the decency to let me complain in peace. I did not come to you for rational advice. I came to you so you could listen passively as I whine about how everything bad in both my life, and now Ten’s, can somehow be traced back to one person. My life is some big convoluted plot to make me miserable and you think I care about reason anymore?”

“I mean, fair.”

Doyoung sighed dramatically again, channelling as much of his exhaustion as he possibly could into his gaze when he looked at Jaehyun.

“All I wanted to do was study dark magic and write my thesis and what started out as an argument with some delusional idiot has now turned into my best friend’s relationship being jeopardised and the cutest person I’ve ever seen making my life even more difficult than it already was.”

“Oh, you didn’t say he was cute.”

Doyoung spluttered. Maybe Jaehyun ‒ attentive Jaehyun, who was now gesturing at him with one eyebrow raised and amusement bright on his face ‒ had been the wrong person to moan at.

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it doesn’t.” Jaehyun’s knowing stare seemed to rip straight through to Doyoung’s soul.

Doyoung pretended to busy himself by sorting through paper straws and attacking the coffee machines with a cloth. He also pretended to not feel Jaehyun’s eyes boring into him over the rim of his cup as he sipped his coffee.

A few minutes passed with Doyoung wiping down the counter more than necessary before Jaehyun spoke up, voice more serious now.

“Have you seen Ten recently? I feel like I’ve barely seen him.”

Doyoung let out another sigh, though this one was far more sombre. His cloth dropped ungracefully onto the counter.

“He’s holed himself up in that new office he bought over the summer. I barely even see him and I live with the guy. He’s working so hard on his company launch and he needs his prototypes to be perfect if he’s going to convince investors to put their money into it. It’s difficult, creating an entirely new branch of technology. And if anyone can do it, it’s him but…” Doyoung looked down, smiling sadly at the shiny surface of the counter-top. His voice moved into a whisper, as though he were afraid Ten would somehow hear. “He’s not going to last very long if he overworks himself like this.”

Silence passed between them.

Doyoung took a deep breath and looked back up, forcing the corners of his mouth into a half-smile.

“I want to help him but, truthfully, the only thing that’s gonna make him better is sorting things out with Johnny and I hate it but I’m not exactly the best person for that job. It kind of sucks, because I’m worried it’s my fault but there’s nothing I can do to fix it for him.”

“Hey ‒ from what you’ve told me, it sounds like Johnny and Ten were already having problems before either of them knew about this thing with Taeyong. If anything, this was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. Not your fault.” Doyoung smiled gratefully. “Well, not entirely your fault.”

Jaehyun yelped when Doyoung smacked his arm.

“You’re not allowed to hit customers!”

“I am when they’re being dicks and my manager’s hungover.”

The bell above the café’s door rang out daintily and Doyoung felt the groan take over his body.

“I think we should try to get Ten out. Remind him there’s more to life than his company. There’s a party at my frat house tonight, could you bring him?”

“You say this like I want to go to a party,” Doyoung said dryly.

“Of course  _ you _ don’t. But Ten loves parties and you love Ten so you’ll come anyway. Besides, you need to loosen up. You have even more frown lines than you did during finals last year.”

Doyoung was about to retort with some comment about how he’d take frown lines any day over looking like a dimpled slice of bread but then a customer was clearing their throat in that horrible, entitled way only customers could and the words died on his tongue.

The service industry called and Doyoung, ever a slave to this capitalistic society, plastered on his largest, fakest smile and turned to face the woman.

“Hello, how may I help you today, Ma’am?”

She tutted at him. And Doyoung felt the vein on his forehead threaten to burst.

It was difficult to keep the smile on his face as the woman prattled off her ridiculously complicated drink order. It was times like these when Doyoung found himself wondering if these people existed solely to make barista’s lives unliveable. As his smile grew more and more strained, he became more and more aware of Jaehyun struggling ‒ and failing ‒ to hold back his laughter.

“Right,” he said when she was finally finished. He told her the cost of the drink and she tutted at him again as though he personally set Starbucks’ prices. He flashed her a sardonic smile ‒ because it was the only one he could manage anymore ‒ as he handed her her change. She didn’t leave a tip.

“Name?”

She told him and he set about making her the drink. Sometimes he wondered if, if he had a different job ‒ one which didn’t involve memorising absurd coffee concoctions ‒ there would be so much free space in his brain that he’d unlock some hidden potential and single-handedly solve global warming. But no. Here he was: stuck remembering a number of shots of vanilla and what type of milk people preferred in their decaf latte with probably about seven tablespoons of sugar.

The woman didn't even look at him as she took her drink. Doyoung waved her out of the shop, happy to see her go, and his smile morphed into a scowl the moment the door swung shut behind her.

“God, I’m glad I don’t have your job,” Jaehyun said.

Doyoung couldn’t think of a response and was spared the embarrassment by something far worse. The bell above the door rang again and a group of at least seven people trailed in. Doyoung felt his soul leave his body. Jaehyun laughed again and stood up, his stool scraping painfully against the flooring.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay. Thanks for the coffee and make sure Ten comes tonight.”

“A party’s not gonna solve all of his problems, Jae.”

“Well, it can’t make things any worse, can it?”

Jaehyun waved happily over his shoulder as he left and Doyoung turned his attention back to his next customers.

“Famous last words,” he muttered under his breath.

 

 

“You promised Yuta so, yes, you do have to go,” Taeyong said, pulling uselessly at the duvet Johnny was hiding under.

“It’s not like Yuta really gave me a choice.” Johnny’s voice was muffled from under the covers, but his whiny voice was annoyingly apparent.

“For God’s sake Johnny!” Taeyong gave up and relinquished his hold on the duvet. “You love parties!”

“I do! Usually. But I don’t really feel like it, Yong. Like, I’d have to talk to people and they’ll ask why I’m not with Ten and you know I can’t lie and I just don’t want to have to deal with that all night.”

Taeyong let out a deep breath, felt himself soften slightly. He flopped himself onto the bed, next to the vague lump that was Johnny.

“It’s not going to be like that. We’re both going to go and look hot as hell and get drunk as shit and get away from all thoughts of Ten and Doyoung for a night.”

At least, that was Taeyong’s plan. It was, perhaps, one of his more reckless ones, but it seemed sound enough. He needed to do something with all that anger he had at Doyoung and drinking and dancing it out of his system at some shitty frat party seemed better than another Netflix binge with Johnny.

“Come on,” Taeyong pushed, “you’ve moped enough.”

“No such thing as too much moping,” came Johnny’s petulant response.

“Johnny.” Taeyong peeled back the hem of the duvet, so he could at least see Johnny’s eyes. “We will figure out what to do about Ten but we won’t be able to if you’re in this state. You need to get out of the house and reset yourself and then we will fix things.”

Johnny let out an exaggerated sigh and pushed back his covers with a theatricality that was far more reminiscent of normal Johnny. Taeyong rolled his eyes, but helped Johnny to his feet with a bright grin.

“Fine. What are you wearing?”

He decided on something not overly showy, but it looked good.

An oversized white shirt French-tucked into a pair of tight black skinny jeans. The shirt hung off of his small frame to expose his collarbone, but the trousers accentuated his figure. He pushed his hair ‒ still pink, but now faded slightly ‒ away from his face and kept his make-up light: minimal foundation, a thin black line above his eye.

Johnny surveyed him carefully, before giving him a nod of approval.

Johnny himself was dressed in a plain, fitted black t-shirt and jeans. His hair ‒ longer than it had been in a while ‒ was messy in that way that screamed purposeful and fell in gentle waves over his eyes. With Johnny, Taeyong often found that it was less about his clothes and appearance and more about the way he carried himself with a confidence he knew belonged to him.

There was something off about him tonight, though. It made him seem smaller somehow and, when the Johnny Taeyong knew could easily fill out a room with his presence alone, this tiny change felt too big. And, though Taeyong knew it was to be expected, he couldn’t help the stab of concern at the thought of it.

Taeyong pushed the thought away. Johnny was making an effort and that was all that mattered.

He linked his arm through Johnny’s and pulled him towards the door. Nothing would ruin this night for them, Taeyong decided. They needed a win too badly.

 

 

Noise vibrated through the walls of the house and filtered violently into the driveway as Johnny and Taeyong made their way towards the door. Different coloured lights flashed in the windows and people were already throwing up into the bushes by the time they got there.

Taeyong grimaced slightly at the sight, wrinkling his nose. Johnny laughed at his expression and pushed the door open easily.

Inside, it was hot. And it was obvious why.

Yuta stood on the pool table in a room to the left, showing off with fire spells he’d learned when he was thirteen to impress a girl only to end up singing her eyebrows. And, judging by the way his eyes kept flickering to where Sicheng stood among the crowd, marvelling at the fire, Taeyong supposed he hadn’t really changed much in the last ten years.

The room was illuminated with bright dancing shapes of fire, swirling their way over people’s heads to the rhythm of the EDM that shook the walls with the severity of its bass. Yuta’s grin was almost as blinding as the fire itself, as he revelled in the adoring cheers.

Taeyong and Johnny rolled their eyes in synchronisation before moving to the kitchen to find drinks, familiar with the layout of the house after so many times there.

They pushed their way through the abundance of people, Johnny’s height clearing a path for them. People they knew came up to them as they did so, complimenting them on how they looked and striking up a conversation about one thing or another. Whenever someone asked after Ten, Taeyong noticed Johnny’s smile became strained and he quickly changed the subject.

The kitchen had fewer people in it than the rest of the house, and it was easy to navigate their way to the drinks. Johnny took up a bottle of vodka and mixed it with something fruity in a cup, passing it to Taeyong. It was stronger than the drinks Johnny usually made for him, but still tasted good. Johnny knew the night’s objective was to forget everything for a few hours, and it showed even more in the way Johnny didn’t bother to mix his own drink with anything to dilute it.

They touched their cups together in a mock toast before they both chugged their contents. Taeyong could already feel a pleasant buzz crawl through him. He wiped the excess liquid from around his mouth and handed his cup back to Johnny so he could make another one.

Johnny had just finished when Taeyong felt a hand tug at his elbow. His drink sloshed dangerously in his cup as the person turned him around and pulled him into a tight hug.

Taeyong pulled back, but Jungwoo’s hands stayed on his shoulders as he gave him a quick once-over, mouth quirking into a smirk.

“Tae! You look so good,” he shouted over the music, still somehow loud in the kitchen. “You too, Johnny ‒ loving the hair.” Jungwoo shot Johnny a wink.

Jungwoo didn’t give either of them time to respond, pulling them both by the hand into the biggest room of the house, which had transformed into a dancefloor for the night.

The music was indistinguishable from whatever it had been when they arrived. But it was upbeat and generic enough that it was easy to dance to. They wormed their way through the thicket of people until they were more or less near the centre.

Taeyong laughed, throwing his head back, as Jungwoo started to dance, moving languidly in time to the music and drained his cup before joining him. It was easy to lose himself like this. With music pounding in his ears, his limbs loose, and the alcohol making its way to his head too fast.

  
  


Doyoung fought the urge to cover his ears as they neared the house.

He liked parties; parties were fun. Just not  _ these _ types of parties. Parties with slobby guys drooling on him as they attempted to flirt. Parties that always ended with him carrying Ten home after he overestimated his drinking tolerance.

But Ten was excited, and he hadn’t mentioned his company or Johnny once in the last hour so Doyoung couldn’t complain too much.

Taeil’s hair’s condition had improved, but only very slightly. An emergency brewing of a hair growth potion and hasty purchase of black hair dye had him looking relatively normal again, even if there were still patches of discolouration visible in certain places. At least it would be dark at the party, Doyoung thought.

The three of them walked through the door and it immediately felt too hot.

They spotted Jaehyun easily, supporting a girl in a handstand over a keg. He looked far more worried about dropping her than impressed by her drinking abilities. They moved towards him and Doyoung noticed with a flare of amusement and admiration that, even as Ten walked, he did so in beat with the music.

Jaehyun had just put the girl down, making sure that she was balanced on her feet well enough to walk when he caught sight of them and his face split into a grin with too much teeth. There was an absence to his gaze that told Doyoung he had already had too much to drink for how young the night was.

Jaehyun hugged each of them in turn, marvelling at Taeil’s hair and his words so slurred Doyoung questioned whether he was in a fit state to be holding people upside down.

They spoke for a while, though it was mostly just Jaehyun babbling about being put on keg duty. They were saved when another member of Jaehyun’s frat pulled him away to help another person attempt it and Jaehyun turned away from them with an exaggerated moan.

Just before they could leave, Jaehyun gripped Doyoung by the shoulder and said, in a voice far too sober, “thanks for bringing Ten. Keep an eye on him?”

“Of course.”

Sweat clung to Taeyong like a second skin, and his cheeks burned. Johnny poked them, laughing at how flushed he was and Taeyong huffed in faux-annoyance. The people around him on the dancefloor felt too close now, and he could barely move. He manoeuvred his way off the dance floor, dragging Jungwoo with him and leaving Johnny behind to flail his limbs wildly in a loose definition of dancing.

He giggled out an apology when he bumped into someone he vaguely recognised from his business class and let Jungwoo pull him away when the guy began to say a tired pick-up line.

Yuta was in the kitchen now, lining up shot glasses with Kun and Sicheng and his grin grew somehow wider when he saw the pair of them. He filled each glass up to the brim with tequila, not caring when some spilled onto the kitchen counter and thrust one in each of their faces.

Tequila was probably a bad idea. But Taeyong was too tipsy for thinking and not drunk enough to turn down the offer.

He seized the glass in one hand and wet the back of his other before offering it to Yuta for him to pour salt onto it. Yuta counted them down and the group of them licked their salt, downed their shot, and messily stuffed a slice of lime into their mouth. Taeyong grimaced, his face scrunching up and hands curling into fists at the burn.

Yuat pointed at him, said something, and all of them started laughing. And Taeyong, in his fuzzy mind, was glad that Sicheng seemed more comfortable now, even if he was also laughing at Taeyong.

They repeated it again, and both shots seemed to hit him at once, and suddenly everything was funny and his vision made everything seem slightly tilted to the left. The roar of the music became secondary to the white noise ringing in his ears, but it wasn’t painful. He liked it.

Yuta poured them all out a third shot, tequila spilling all over the counter now as he missed the glasses.

He paused with his hand mid-air as he made to give Taeyong his shot. “You sure you can handle another, Yong?”

Taeyong wasn’t stupid; he knew his limits and he knew that he’d gone past them. But, also, he wanted another shot.

“Yeah, of course. Don’t underestimate me, Nakamoto.” He seized the glass with a cocky grin, even as he struggled to pronounce the word  _ underestimate _ .

Sure, he knew his limits, but one more shot couldn’t hurt.

 

 

The ping-pong ball flew gracefully, like a newborn bird taking to the air for the first time. It crossed over the table in a perfect arch and Doyoung felt his face of concentration morph into a smug smirk as it sunk into a cup with a satisfying  _ splash _ .

The crowd gathered around them broke into cheers and Ten shook his shoulders, frantically screaming in his ear.

“Suck on that, Yangyang!” Ten screeched as Yangyang groaned and began to down the cup of beer.

Doyoung’s vision was swimming slightly, the rows of cups at the opposite end of the table moving in and out of clarity. The throw had been entirely luck, which was rare for him these days. Some part of him was upset that it manifested itself in a game of beer-pong rather than literally any other aspect of his life. The drunk part of him beamed with unearned pride.

Ten hung off his elbow, not quite as drunk as Doyoung, but getting there.

Yangyang slammed the empty cup back down onto the table with a vengeful look in his eye and Doyoung made a mocking gesture at him. It might have been a mistake. Yangyang’s eyes focused up in a way that was almost frightening. He gripped the ping-pong ball with deft fingers and threw it across the table.

Doyoung knew where it was going to land before it did, but tracked its movement through the air with his eyes anyway, a horrible resignation settling in him.

It landed squarely in one of his cups and he whined loudly, causing Yangyang to laugh maliciously.

The crowd around him started to chant  _ chug chug chug _ at him and he obliged. He wasn’t sure what beer it was, but it was bitter and left a foul aftertaste in his mouth. Ten cooed stupidly at him as he wiped his mouth.

He stretched his neck, the click of his bones audible even above the music. He picked up the ball again, vision even blurrier now and lined up his shot with where he assumed a cup would be. He met Yangyang’s eyes briefly and smirked before letting the ball loose.

 

 

Taeyong found himself once again in the middle of the dancefloor, quite unaware of how he’d gotten there. All he knew was the music was pounding violently through his limbs, and his head felt too high ‒ detached from the rest of his body. It was a nice feeling.

He was dancing with someone he only kind of knew, skin red and hot and sticky in the places his clothes were touching him. Everything was blurry and a hazy sort of happiness coursed through him. Johnny was somewhere close by, distinguishable to Taeyong through his drunken state only by his height.

Time passed, songs changed and Taeyong didn’t leave the dance floor, too caught up in the sheer giddiness that came with being too drunk to worry about anything but moving in any way he wanted. It wasn’t really dancing ‒ it never was at parties ‒ dancing was one of Taeyong’s favourite things, but this was something entirely different. More freeing, less controlled.

Somehow he, Jungwoo, and Johnny had formed a circle and were dancing pressed close to one another. The song was objectively shit, but the alcohol swimming around his brain acted as some sort of filter to make it decent enough to move to.

Johnny said something he couldn’t quite make out, but he threw his head back as he laughed anyway.

Taeyong took a brief moment to scan around the room in search of his other friends, hoping to coerce them into joining them when he saw something that made the alcohol burn where it flowed through his veins.

Kim Doyoung.

Swaying slightly on his feet, a cup of something in his hand. Looking all tall and hot in a black button-down and ripped jeans that should have made him look like some emo skater kid but just made him look good. It was unfair that Taeyong’s drunk brain was wholly unequipped to deal with hot guys and instead sent him into panic, stopping dead in the middle of the dancefloor.

Johnny followed suit, shooting a questioning look at Taeyong before following his eyeline. Johnny grew tense beside him, and Taeyong could see the smile fall off his face at the sight of Ten laughing next to Doyoung and their other friends.

And then all Taeyong could think about was how this party was supposed to be distracting Johnny, and now he looked torn and upset. And all he could see was his beautiful pamphlet in flames. And all he could hear was Johnny’s broken voice every time he mentioned Ten. And then Taeyong was done with letting Doyoung do this to the things he loved.

He was too drunk to stop his anger. Or perhaps he was just too angry.

Either way, there was nothing to stop him as he began to walk towards Doyoung, each step fueling his rage.

 

 

“Oi!”

Doyoung’s head snapped up, shock overtaking him before he could control it at the sight of Lee Taeyong walking towards him. Each of his steps was slightly wobbly, but there was clear murderous intent in his eyes and Doyoung fought against the sudden urge to shrink back into the wall.

He forced himself to look Taeyong right in the eyes ‒ more to avoid having to look at the rest of his body and keep his sanity than anything else. They were dark with anger despite how unfocused they seemed.

“You’re a fucking dick, you know that?” Taeyong’s voice is loud, words all slurring off into one another. He was close now, jabbing his finger into Doyoung’s chest at every word to emphasise his words.

And Doyoung would be lying if he said the words didn’t hurt just a little. He’s an emotional drunk, what can he say?

“You’re not so great yourself,” he said, and the tiny not-so-drunk part of his brain cursed at how lame it sounded.

And then Taeyong was shouting at him, and Doyoung couldn’t tell if his inability to make out the words was due to his own intoxicated state or Taeyong’s. Whatever it was, it still annoyed Doyoung because Taeyong just had that remarkable ability of getting under Doyoung’s skin no matter what.

“Stop spouting bullshit, Lee,” he said loudly. He wasn’t sure what Taeyong had been saying but he was sure that it was bullshit.

Taeyong crossed his arms over his chest and pinned Doyoung down with a terrifying glare. But fear was for sober people.

“Maybe if you just let people go to their fucking lectures in peace and stopped trying to force them to join your stupid society, maybe your pamphlet wouldn’t be ash right now. Just give the fuck up, dude.”

Taeyong scoffed loudly, and some of his spit landed on Doyoung’s face. He wiped it away, disgusted.

“Maybe if you were a half-decent human being I’d feel worse about making you late to your lecture,” Taeyong shot back, his voice too icy for the heat of the room.

Doyoung felt Ten put a hand on his shoulder in what he guessed was an attempt at placating him, but it did little to stop the pure irritation he felt at Taeyong. Taeyong, who had ruined the night for both him and Ten, when the party was supposed to be making Ten feel better. Not to mention the way Johnny lurked behind Taeyong, alternating between staring too intensely at Ten and avoiding his gaze like the plague.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Taeyong. Get out of my face and stop bothering me and my friends.” Doyoung put emphasis on that last word, and watched with a sick satisfaction when Taeyong’s eyes flickered to Ten, a hint of insecurity hidden there.

The air grew thick with a sort of tension that Doyoung couldn’t name, but seemed to stem directly from Taeyong. Doyoung watched as Johnny’s face quickly turned panicked and he placed a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, seemingly trying to pull him away.

“Come on, Tyong. Leave it alone now. He’s not worth it.”

Taeyong shrugged off his friend's grip forcefully and levelled a look at Doyoung. It took all of Doyoung’s willpower not to blanch. Taeyong’s eyes looked like they’d been entirely swallowed by his pupil. Black. Taeyong’s eyes were usually wide, but now they were thin and slanted as he glared at Doyoung. Even his pink hair didn’t make him any less scary.

But Doyoung held his ground.

“Yeah,  _ Tyong _ ,” he said mockingly, vicious triumph coming from the way Taeyong near growled. “Leave it alone now. Listen to Johnny. Let people do what they fucking want with their lives and keep your nose out of other people’s business and things you don’t know shit about. Or maybe you’re just jealous seeing as you can barely use light magic, let alone get into an exclusive course.”

Something changed in Taeyong then, a clarity to his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Okay. I’ll let you do what you want, you arrogant creep. I’ll let you use dark magic to resurrect the dead and sacrifice people for power and tarnish people’s souls. I’ll keep my nose out of your business because I don’t  _ want  _ to know. I don’t want to know anything about the type of sadistic fuck who gets off on magic that causes people pain. I don’t want to know anything about the type of person you must be to want to study something as horrible as dark magic. Unloveable.” That struck a chord, and Doyoung felt himself reel with anger. “An unlovable, narcissistic, violent outcast. What even is it that you want to do with dark magic, Doyoung? Magic them into falling in love with you? Torture people because no one likes you because you’re insufferable? Because that’s what dark magic is for. That’s what you want to use it for.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Doyoung snarled, but it only made Taeyong’s smirk wider. “Pretending you know shit about me when you don’t.”

“Getting all defensive just tells me I’m right, Doyoungie.”

“Go away. Get the fuck out of my face,” he spat.

“Fucking make me. Use your oh-so-powerful dark magic.”

And that feeling was back in the air, dangerous and powerful. It seemed to sink into Doyoung’s skin and add to the rage already sitting there. He didn’t know if anyone else could feel it, didn’t care if they could. But it radiated from Taeyong and grew stronger with every passing moment they stared at each other. It was infectious, only slightly painful. Like a sting.

Doyoung considered Taeyong’s words before the alcohol in his mind, egged on by that new feeling worming its way through his body, decided that he didn’t need magic to make Taeyong leave him alone.

Like a man possessed, commanded by raw anger and whatever that feeling filling the air was, he lunged at Taeyong, fist coming up to where his face was. But it seemed he wasn’t alone, as Taeyong’s own fist came into his field of view. And, maybe it was the anger or the alcohol, but Doyoung could have sworn his knuckles looked almost black as they approached his face.

Doyoung braced himself, ready for the oncoming punch and screwed his eyes shut in an effort to minimise the damage. His arm kept swinging with momentum and he prepared for impact.

It did not come.

A hand wrapped itself around his arm and yanked him back with too much strength. He stumbled backwards on his feet and opened his eyes to see Taeyong struggling against where Johnny had wrapped one arm around his midriff and had the other holding Taeyong’s punching arm.

“Let me go!” Doyoung shouted, pulling against Ten and Taeil who were now holding him back.

“For fuck’s sake, Doyoung. You’re better than this.”

“Tyong, this isn’t you. You know it’s not. Come on,” Johnny was saying, speaking straight into Taeyong’s ear even as Taeyong stared Doyoung down.

The feeling was dissipating, but not much. It was still poignant, stifling. And he felt it get extracted from his bones bit by bit.

“Can we go home?” Taeyong mumbled, voice smaller than Doyoung had ever heard. He didn’t like the quick streak of guilt that flashed through him.

“Of course we can,” Johnny said, voice too gentle for someone of his size.

Johnny picked Taeyong up, unsurprisingly easy considering their size difference and made to turn around. His eyes lingered on Ten for a moment too long, something unreadable in his eyes before he started to walk away, people clearing a natural path for him.

Ten and Taeil released Doyoung, and he staggered a bit before he found his balance. Some guy Doyoung didn’t know, with shoulder-length red hair and hands curled into fists, glared at Doyoung and looked like he was about to finish what Taeyong had started before Kun ‒ whom Doyoung did know ‒ pulled him away, muttering something in his friend’s ear but also shooting Doyoung a reproachful look.

The party continued around him. But the air was heavy. He felt too sober now, and his mouth felt too dry.

“I need a drink,” he said. And he pretended he didn’t see the concerned look Taeil and Ten exchanged as he pushed his way to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the temptation to have jackson host this party was so strong but somehow i resisted
> 
> if you enjoyed, please validate me by leaving kudos and comments <3
> 
> come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/whatisanult) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/whatisanult)
> 
> thank you for readinggg <333


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha so i'm alive
> 
> i'm so so sorry this chapter took so long but life has just been a lot lately 
> 
> anyway thanks for waiting and i hope you enjoy this chapter~ <3

Taeyong felt a weight sit down on the bed next to him and burrowed further into his duvet, not yet ready to face the world. His head was splitting and he hadn’t even opened his eyes yet. The last thing he wanted was sunlight and noise and interaction.

Last night had been a mess, and Taeyong could still feel the anger of his interaction with Doyoung clinging to him like an unwelcome perfume, mixing – more and more with every new breath – with shame and embarrassment. He could still hear his stupid voice, and see the flashing lights of the party behind his eyelids. And he could still feel the horrible, horrible, anger that had consumed him. And the last thing he wanted was to leave the safe space of his duvet burrito where he could lament his sufferings in peace.

“It’s already afternoon, Tae,” came Johnny’s voice, and the irony of the reversal of their positions from yesterday wasn’t lost on Taeyong, but it was discarded to a faraway part of his mind as his head started to ring. “You can’t stay buried in your bed forever.”

“I can try.” Taeyong spoke past the ringing in his ears, his voice coming out throaty and hoarse.

“Come on.”

Taeyong pushed the covers down just enough to reveal the upper part of his face, but kept his eyes screwed shut because he didn’t think he’d survive light.

“I don’t ever want to leave here again.”

“Yong.” Johnny’s tone was warning.

“What,” Taeyong whined. “You saw me last night. It was a disaster. I shouldn’t be allowed in public ever again.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? I ruined your night even though _I_ was the one who convinced you to go out in the first place. I lost control of myself and fucked up my progress and I messed up everyone else’s night as well because they were all worried about me and couldn’t enjoy the night properly. So please just let me slowly die in my own bed; I don’t want to face my mistakes.”

 “Okay, first of all, I hear what you’re saying, but it is very hard to take you seriously when your face is all scrunched up like that; you look too cute,” Johnny said, and Taeyong had to fight against a smile. “Second of all, it was not your fault. Well, not entirely. It takes two to start a fight, Taeyong, and Doyoung is just as much to blame. Even more so, actually, because he’s a dick. And he threw the first punch.”

Taeyong opened his eyes, squinting immediately as bright light attacked his retinas, and sat up.

“You can’t blame him for that. That was my fault for losing control. We both punched at the same time, anyhow.

“Okay, fine, it wasn’t entirely Doyoung’s fault. Still not yours either. You know who I blame for that.”

Taeyong did.

“But I’m supposed to be better now.” The world was still spinning, his headache still prominent, but he was able to open his eyes just wide enough to see Johnny’s face close to his, concern so obvious it made Taeyong’s chest hurt.

“You _are_ better, Taeyong. You’ve gotten so much better and I’m so proud of you and you can’t discredit all the progress you’ve made because of one slip-up. That’s not fair to yourself. Besides you were drunk-“

“That’s never an excuse!” Taeyong interjected, albeit it jokingly.

“And there were other external factors that didn’t help,” Johnny promptly ignored him. Johnny’s hand came up to hold the side of Taeyong’s face gently, and the coldness of the touch grounded him. It felt nice against the stifling heat of his hangover.

“Point is,” Johnny said, using his grip on Taeyong’s face to force Taeyong to stare him in the eyes even as Taeyong wanted to shrink back beneath his duvet and shield his eyes from any brightness, “you acted a little shit yesterday but you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. We all fuck up but you’re doing well and you need to start believing that.”

Taeyong felt rather useless with Johnny holding his head still and squishing his cheeks together, and eyeballs practically on fire with pain.

“But my next check-in is soon. If I don’t prove that I’m stable enough they won’t let me continue. And after that last light magic lesson…” Taeyong trailed off, laughing bitterly. “If I don’t prove I’m good enough, they’ll have to kick me off the programme. And then all your, and Mark’s and Doctor Kim’s and everyone else’s faith in me will all be for nothing. And I can’t let that happen. I _can’t._ ”

“I know that, Tae.” Johnny moved his hands down to rest on Taeyong’s shoulders. “But you can’t think like that. You’re better than that and you know it.”

Taeyong averted his eyes away from Johnny’s. Johnny slapped his shoulder.

“Say it.”

Taeyong smiled in spite of himself. “I’m better than that.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. “And I know it.”

“Well done.”

“I’m still sorry for making your night shit. We should’ve just stayed in and watched films.”

“Nah,” Johnny said, “you couldn’t have known they’d be there. You were right; I needed to get out the house. Besides, I was having a great time until we saw them.”

“Oh yeah,” Taeyong snorted, and it hurt his brain but he tried to conceal his pain, “I could tell. How many people did you almost knock out with your so-called ‘dancing’?”

“Shut up, Yong. How many shots did you take again? When your self-imposed limit is one glass of wine?”

Taeyong smiled sweetly at him.

“Though I do have an idea that might help.” Taeyong looked at Johnny inquisitively. “Stay away from Kim Doyoung.”

It was a good idea. Doyoung set something off in Taeyong – primal instinct perhaps – and made him lose control. He just had this remarkable, uncanny ability of getting under Taeyong’s skin. Doyoung, who was the opposite of what Taeyong stood for in so many ways. The most obvious of which had turned to ash outside Building 127.

“I agree with you on that. Though it might be difficult considering he is Ten’s best friend and all.”

“Right,” Johnny said, dejected.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not right now.” Johnny smiled sadly. “Let me just ignore it for another day or so.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Okay, tell me your ideas for this light magic photoshoot thing and then – when the room’s stopped spinning and I can no longer taste my thoughts – we can call the others over for a lads weekend in. Gotta get my head right for light magic on Monday.”

“Great idea.” Johnny grinned and relief flooded Taeyong when he recognised that it was genuine. “Okay, so the shoot right – wait! Let me go grab my mood board!”

And then he was bounding out of the room, too loudly, but Taeyong couldn’t find it in himself to be angry, or even annoyed. He stretched over to his bedside cabinet and picked up the glass of water and aspirin Johnny had undoubtedly left there. He knocked them back and muttered a quick soothing spell just as Johnny burst through the door with his laptop and a large rectangle of poster board.

 

 

        

“Kill me,” Doyoung moaned.

“Gladly,” Ten moaned back.

The pair of them were lying on Doyoung’s bed because it was the biggest, eyes closed, whining every so often and then cussing the other out for worsening their hangover. Overall, not the worst way to start a Saturday.

“Last night was so bad,” Doyoung said.

“Yeah, you were.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what I heard.”

“I will hit you in the head,” threatened Doyoung.

“What? Like you tried to hit Taeyong?”

It was a low blow. When Doyoung didn’t say anything, Ten spoke, a little more firmly than would constitute joking. “Violence is never the answer, Doyoung. Especially not to Taeyong. Promise me you won’t ever try to hit him again. I get that you hate him but that was too far.”

Doyoung sighed. “I know,” he said, because he did. He wasn’t usually a violent person and the previous night had been an anomaly he couldn’t explain. “You heard what he said. I guess it hit a sore spot, but that’s not an excuse.”

Ten hummed. “He was a bit harsh. I didn’t expect he’d be capable of something like that.”

“I guess it was a weird night for the both of us.” Doyoung didn’t doubt Ten’s words. Taeyong seemed like a lot of things: delusional, nosy, and argumentative but he certainly didn’t seem cruel. Even if his words had been.

Silence for a few moments.

“Did you feel it, though?” Doyoung asked, scared he wouldn’t like the answer, scared he’d discover something about himself he didn’t like. “That – I don’t know – that _feeling_ in the air. I don’t know what it was but, God, it made everything Taeyong said not just hurt a million times worse but make me so so angry. It made me want to hurt him.”

He heard Ten sit up.

“I did,” he said quietly.

Doyoung let out a breath of relief.

“I’ll try my best to stay away from him,” he said. “Nothing good ever happens when we’re together. And I want to avoid a repeat of last night at all costs.”

“Smart idea, Doie. I’m proud of you – it’s not like you to back down but I think you’re being mature.” Doyoung smiled involuntarily. “Here,” Ten said, tapping his shoulder. Doyoung opened his eyes to see him with a mug of something in his outstretched hand, a matching one in his other hand. “Some of Taeil’s special hangover potion.”

Doyoung lifted himself up, slowly because it gave him motion sickness.

“How was Taeil coherent enough to brew this?”

He took a sip, and choked with how disgusting it was.

“He wasn’t,” Ten said, a sly smile on his face.

Doyoung rolled his eyes, ignoring how it made them burn in his skull and fixed Ten with an incredulous look. “This was you?” Ten giggled. “Ten, you’re so bad at potions.” When Ten opened his mouth to protest, Doyoung spoke over him. “We don’t even own a cauldron and we don’t have a brewing station – what did you use?”

He immediately regretted asking as Ten’s smirk widened.

“Washing up bowl and a heating spell,” he said. “And I know it tastes like shit but I only fucked up the brewing a little bit because I may have fallen asleep. Other than that, it works perfectly. So drink up.”

He held out his mug, and Doyoung clinked his own against it, even as the sound split his skull.

“Cheers.”

He grimaced as he downed it. Despite the horrible taste, his head did begin to clear up. If only very slowly – about a fraction of the pace at which Taeil’s potion usually worked.

“Also,” Doyoung said, “it’s a bit rich of you to lecture me about violence because I’m not the one in this room with a lifetime ban from the campus Starbucks after trying to fight another patron.”

Ten scoffed. “I was defending your honour!”

“You were defending your croissant’s honour,” Doyoung corrected, feeling a smile come to his face. He pushed himself against the headboard of his bed and closed his eyes, pleased when he felt Ten settle in next to him.

“It’s still different.” Doyoung felt Ten’s head fall onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.”

They stayed like that in silence for a moment, each waiting for the potion to take effect.

“Want to call the guys over and try to forget last night?”

Doyoung belatedly realised that, as embarrassed and hurt he must have been last night, Ten couldn’t be doing too well after seeing Johnny like that either.

“You can,” he said. “But I need to study.”

Ten lifted his head up and turned to look at him. “No. Absolutely not. No way. There is no way in hell I am letting you study when I can tell you’re upset. You literally don’t need to, anyway. We’ve only just finished the first week back.”

“Ten, I’ve got a physics test and I don’t really understand the material—”

“Yes you do. Now shut up, because your whiny voice makes my hangover worse.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“Good,” Ten said as he snuggled in closer to Doyoung. Doyoung wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rested his head on top on Ten’s. Maybe the physics could wait a day.

        

 

 

The smell of Kun’s stir-fried noodles wafted through the air, mixing with the scent of the lemon cookies baking peacefully in the oven.

Yuta was yelling at Jungwoo, insisting that he and Taeyong had somehow cheated at Pictionary and Johnny was pretending no one could see him stealing the cupcakes cooling on the kitchen counter.

Sicheng said something in Chinese and Kun laughed.

“What did you say?” Yuta demanded, whirling to face them. “Kun, what did he say? Were you making fun of me? We’re meant to be on the same team! I’m trying to get us more points!”

The two of them laughed harder.

And, surrounded by his friends, Taeyong found it all too easy to push all thoughts of dark magic and stupidly good-looking boys with shitty personalities out of his mind.

For the first time that week, Taeyong was confident he would be fine, so long as he kept his distance from Kim Doyoung.

 

 

 

Doyoung pulled a face at Taeil as he won his eighth consecutive game of Mario Kart and launched into some strange sort of victory dance. Ten threw his controller on the ground and Jaehyun burst into raucous laughter.

“How are you so good at this? It’s not fair!” Ten yelled.

“Nothing fair about talent, Tennie,” Taeil said, still dancing.

Ten growled like a disgruntled cat. “Rematch. And I will beat you.”

“Ten, just give up,” Jaehyun said through his laughter.

Ten shot him a glare. “I’m not you.”

Doyoung guffawed a laugh, and didn’t falter when Ten turned his murderous gaze to him.

“Don’t laugh at me, or you’re next, Bunny.”

 Doyoung held his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh no! I’m so scared.”

Ten bared his teeth before turning back to the TV. “Rainbow Road or you’re a coward.”

“Oh, you are so on.”

 

 

 Taeyong munched on his mouthful of cereal at ten in the morning and watched as Johnny downed his fourth cup of coffee of the day.

“Mark’s got a new song out on Soundcloud if you want to listen,” Taeyong said, though the words were muffled.

“Ooh,” Johnny made a noise of excitement, reaching for his phone. “Any good?”

“Decide that for yourself.”

“So that’s a yes then.”

Peaceful silence held for a second or two, the only noise Taeyong chewing at his breakfast. Johnny found the song, and the sound of Mark’s low rapping voice began to filter through the Bluetooth speaker on top of the kitchen table.

“Featuring ‘Haechan’?” Johnny read out.

"Donghyuck,” Taeyong said. “Mark finally convinced him to sing on one of his tracks.

Johnny’s mouth made an _oh_ shape and then they both fell silent to listen to Mark’s song.

“You help him with this one?” Johnny asked after it was finished.

Taeyong shook his head and took his now empty bowl to the sink to rinse it out. “He did it all by himself,” he said, and couldn’t hide the pride he felt.

"It’s good,” Johnny said. “Like really good. It’s weird to think of how far he’s come.”

Taeyong smiled. “I’ll make sure to tell him you said that.” He checked the time on his phone. “Come on. We should probably get going, don’t want to be late. Again.”

“You sure you’re up for it? You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I’m sure,” Taeyong said. “I have a good feeling about today’s lecture.”

 

 

“Happiness,” Doctor Kim said, “happiness is an abstract noun, an emotion that we all want to feel as much as possible. If you’ve made your way through this term’s reading list yet, you’ll know that _The Magical Qualities of Happiness_ by Professor Kim Heechul explores the concept of happiness as a source of magical power. And this rings true in no field more than the study of light magic, as you all know.

“Many stories, such as _Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz,_ etcetera, entertain this idea. The ‘think of something that makes you happy and you will be able to perform magic’ notion, and most of you probably recognise this as something childish, because you have spent your lives being taught that magic is an art and a science rolled into one, and that it requires concentration and practice and skill, not emotion.

“But,” Kim clapped his hands together, “I want you to forget that for a moment. Because today, I want you to use nothing but emotion. Mr Kim Dongyoung.”

Taeyong saw Doyoung look up from where he’d been scrawling in his notebook.

“What conclusion does Doctor Kwon Boa draw about the most important factor in casting light magic in _A Light Heart_?”

“Intention,” Doyoung answered immediately.

“Exactly,” Kim said. “Intention. Light magic, more than any other type, is one of the two base forces of magical nature. And, as one of the oldest, it is a stubborn thing, and insists that its use be for good. However, the concept of good and bad are ill-defined, undetermined. So, how does the magic know if the intentions for its use are good?”

He paused dramatically.

“Happiness. Because nature determines happiness to equal goodness. Up until now, you have all studied light magic as an integral part of the world, and you have created and manipulated light and emotion and other such things because you had to focus on technique and other boring things that weren’t happiness but today we are going to begin to move to a whole new plane of its use.”

He held out a hand, palm up, and a ball of blinding white light began to form there. But it didn’t behave like the light they were used to summoning. Taeyong, along with every other student in the lecture hall, lent forward in his seat and craned his neck to get a closer look.

Where light magic would usually float, it sat in Kim’s palm as though it were a regular ball, with weight.

Kim tossed the ball to one of the students in the hall.

“Physical creation from pure happiness,” he said.

He seemed to take their awe-stunned silence in for a moment, something pleased in his eyes. For most magicians, it was impossible to create something out of nothing, and most magic was based around summoning things, manipulating the things in the your surroundings and bending them to your will. This – creating a solid object from nothing but emotion – this was new. The power of creation. Taeyong’s heart thumped with excitement.

“Go on, pass it around.”

The student obeyed, and passed it to the person sitting next to him. Each person took time to marvel at it as Kim continued to talk.

“This term you will be learning one of the most advanced magical techniques in existence. It is the same technique used to make the sword Excalibur in ancient legend, the same technique used to win the war of 1783, and the same technique used to earn me my doctorate in 2009.”

The ball of light finally got passed to Taeyong and he held it carefully in his hands, scared he might somehow break it. It felt like happiness – like the happiness Kim had used to create it was spreading to him the longer he held it. It was dense but light at the same time, smooth and so so real that his eyes threatened to pop out of his skull with how wide they were as he regarded it. He turned it over in his hands, loving the way it felt.

He passed it on to Johnny next to him and turned his attention back to Doctor Kim.

“But before we can think of creating.” He snapped his fingers and the ball disappeared from where Johnny was cradling it in his hands. Taeyong stifled a laugh at the wounded look on Johnny’s face. “We must first think of happiness. Pure happiness is a difficult thing to achieve, it requires patience and a clear, untainted mind.” Taeyong felt his stomach sink.

“In order to explore the concept of happiness, I will be assigning a project to be completed in pairs. Together, you must find something that makes the pair of you genuinely happy, and discover how it manifests itself when used as a source of light magic. I will email you your brief, and I expect you to be ready with a presentation on your chosen subject in our lecture two weeks from now.”

Taeyong breathed out. That was okay, he thought, he would work with Johnny and it would be easy enough to find something that made them both happy.

“I will be assigning your partners.”

Okay, not so great. But it was still fine, he knew most of the people in his class pretty well, it would be fine. So long as it wasn’t Doyoung.

“Son Wendy and Seo Johnny,” Kim said, and continued to list off pairs.

 _Oh,_ Taeyong thought. He was doing it in reverse alphabetical order. It was still fine. Lee and Kim might be next to each other in the register but they were very common surnames.

“Lee Minhyuk and Lee Hoseok.” Wait no that couldn’t be right – he’d missed Taeyong out. “Lee Taeyong and Kim Dongyoung.” Taeyong blanched. “Kim Yerim and Kim Jongdae.” _No,_ Taeyong thought, _that’s not how the alphabet works._

He turned his head to see that Doyoung was already staring at him, incredulous and ice in his eyes.

“Oh, that’s not good,” he heard Johnny mutter from beside him. Taeyong didn’t even say anything in response, just kept staring at Doyoung and realising just how shit this situation was.

He couldn’t be happy around Doyoung, much less find something in common with him to make an entire presentation on. He barely registered it when the class began packing up around him, too busy glaring at Doyoung with as much resentment as he could muster. He only looked away when Johnny nudged him in the shoulder.

“Talk to Kim,” Johnny told him. “Ask him to reassign your partner.”

“Johnny, you’re a genius,” Taeyong said, throwing his laptop into his rucksack and descending the stairs as fast as he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Doyoung doing the same.

They reached Kim’s desk at the same time.

“Sir,” they both said at the same time, and then scowled at each other.

“Would you please reconsider letting us switch partners?” Doyoung got in before Taeyong and Taeyong glared at him.

“We won’t be able to work together,” Taeyong said. “We don’t exactly have the best relationship.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Doyoung muttered and Taeyong shot him a scathing look.

Doctor Kim gave Taeyong a sympathetic look. “I’m aware boys,” he said tersely. “But I am not going to reassign your partners. I don’t want animosity in my classroom and would appreciate it if you learned to work together.”

“But, Sir.” Taeyong looked at Doyoung, and then back at Kim, thinking of the best way to phrase what he wanted to say and quietening his voice. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do this project to the best of my abilities if I have to work with him.”

Doyoung looked affronted; Taeyong didn’t care.

“Then you need to think more highly of yourself, Taeyong,” Kim said. “I believe you can.” Then he addressed the both of them. “This is a pretty exclusive course at an already exclusive university; I expect professionalism from my students. Don’t make me rethink your places.”

He gave Taeyong one final look, pointed and heavy with meaning.

“Right, Sir, we’ll make it work,” he said, even though he really didn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” Doyoung said, “we’ll try our best.”

“Good.” Kim smiled. “I look forward to your presentation.”

“See you, sir.”

“Bye, sir.”

They walked out of the classroom, Doyoung a little in front of Taeyong. Johnny was waiting outside, and glowered when he saw Doyoung, which Doyoung happily returned.

“All good?” Johnny asked.

Taeyong shook his head. “Sir said I have to work with him.”

“ _‘Him’_ has a name,” Doyoung scoffed.

“Fine,” Taeyong said. “Sir said I have to work with Doyoung the Dickhead.”

“Not my name,” Doyoung growled.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Taeyong shot back.

They held each other’s stares for a moment before Johnny placed a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder and Taeyong tore his gaze away. Johnny looked at Taeyong and a non-verbal conversation passed between them. Taeyong sighed. Johnny was right; he was being childish. He had to try to make the best of a bad situation. He resolved to be pleasant, at the very least. For his own sake.

“Give me your number,” he said without looking at Doyoung.

“What for?”

“If we have to work together, I’m not letting my grade suffer because of you. We need to communicate.”

“I should be the one saying that to you,” Doyoung said, but he got his phone – an old model – out anyway and handed it to Taeyong, who input his number. “We should sort out which days we’re free as well.”

Taeyong gave Doyoung his phone back, and dug his own out of his pocket. Doyoung eyed it weirdly. Taeyong ignored him and brought up his calendar.

“I’ve got to head off, Tae,” Johnny said, and the silent question in his voice was obvious.

Taeyong nodded. “Of course. See you at home.”

“See you.” Johnny gave him a one-armed hug, and then set off out of the building towards his photography lecture.

“So, when are you free?” Doyoung asked, and Taeyong was abruptly reminded of his existence.

“Today?”

“I’m free after six fifteen,” Doyoung said.

“Okay, let’s meet up then in the library?” Taeyong just wanted it to be over with as soon as possible.

“We can’t,” Doyoung said. “It’s closed this week because that frat set off a stink hex for initiation.”

“Fine,” Taeyong said, exasperated, “you can come to my apartment then; it’s on campus. I’ll text you the address.”

“You got somewhere you need to be?” Doyoung sounded annoyed.

“Yes, actually,” Taeyong snapped.

“Oh, then don’t let me keep you .”

“Fine, I won’t.”

Taeyong walked away, silently fuming and cursing at gods he didn’t believe in. He got surprisingly far, lost in his thoughts, when he bumped into someone.

“Sor—” he broke off when he realised who it was.

“Ten,” he said.

“Tae.”

They regarded each other for a moment, the air between them tense. Taeyong hated this; things were never supposed to be awkward between him and Ten. It was even worse because he didn’t actually know why Johnny was so angry at him.

“How are you?” Ten asked, a tentative smile on his face.

Taeyong considered lying, but thought better of it. Ten could always see right through him. “I’ve been better. You?”

“The same I’d say.”

Taeyong nodded.

Ten took a deep breath in. “Listen. I’m sorry about Friday night. And I’m sorry for putting you in a weird spot with Johnny and me.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Taeyong said, “for putting you in a weird spot with me and Doyoung.”

Ten raised his arms hesitantly, and Taeyong went into his embrace easily. They stayed like that for a while, hugging in the middle of campus and not caring about the looks thrown their way.

“You and Johnny will be fine,” Taeyong promised when they pulled away. “He loves you.”

“And I love him,” Ten said, but his smile looked unhappy. “I can’t promise you’ll like Doyoung, but I can say that he is a good person beneath it all and there’s a reason he’s my best friend.”

Taeyong tried not to look like the thought physically pained him. He didn’t do a very good job judging by the way Ten laughed.

“You don’t have to go near him if you don’t want to – I wouldn’t blame you – but he wasn’t acting like himself on Friday.”

“Neither was I,” Taeyong admitted.

A beat passed.

“I have to go,” Taeyong said. “I’m meeting Mark for lunch but I’ll see you at dance practice?”

“Of course.” Ten smiled, and it made Taeyong weak with relief that there was no animosity between them. Taeyong didn’t want to lose a good friend because of someone like Kim Doyoung. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

 

 

 

Taeyong pushed through the doors of the café and heard the bell over the entrance _ding_ to signify his entrance.

He spotted Mark sitting in the furthest corner of the café, looking at something on his laptop and scribbling onto a pad of paper.

"Hello, how can I help you today?” Asked one of the baristas, and Taeyong turned his attention to her, ordering a large chai latte and two chocolate muffins and giving her his name.

When he got his stuff, he walked to Mark and put it down on the table. Mark looked up when he did so, and panic flashed on his face. Mark scrambled to slam his laptop (a gift from Taeyong, he noted, slightly miffed) shut and thrust his notepad into his bag before looking up at Taeyong and resting his chin on the back of his hand, trying to act natural.

“‘Sup, Yong,” he said.

Taeyong fixed Mark with a look as he took the seat opposite him. “What’cha writing there, Mark?”

“Writing where? Ooh, that for me?” He pointed at one of the muffins.

Taeyong nodded absently and Mark slid the plate over to himself, taking a large bite. “Secret love song for Hyuck?” Taeyong teased and then watched with amusement as Mark choked on his muffin.

He continued to cough for a few moments and Taeyong continued to laugh.

“No!” Mark managed to get out through his mouthful of muffin. And Taeyong couldn’t tell if the overly red colour of his face was due to embarrassment or his close brush with asphyxiation. Mark finally swallowed the cake. “No,” he said again.

“Yeah, I believe you,” Taeyong said.

“Good. You should. Because it’s the truth.”

“I do.”

 They looked at each other for a moment until Taeyong couldn’t stop himself anymore and burst out laughing.

“God, you’re the worst big brother ever.”

“Nope,” Taeyong corrected, popping a piece of muffin into his mouth, “I’m the best big brother ever. And a love song would be better than the whole ‘drop unsubtle hints until he finally gets that you’ve been in love with him for the past two years’ thing you’ve got going.”

“Shut up,” Mark said, his face now somehow even redder. “I’m doing my best.”

Taeyong hummed. “I’m sure you are.”

Mark buried his face in his hands. “I hate you.”

“Do you want me to buy you lunch or not?”

Mark looked up. “Yongie, Tae, TY Track: greatest rapper of our generation and bestest big brother in the world, please buy food for your poor, lovesick younger brother whom you love with all your heart.”

Taeyong laughed. “I haven’t got any more classes today,” he said. “So let me finish my drink and my muffin and you can come back to mine and I’ll cook for you.”

“Can you make kimchi fried rice?” Mark asked, eyes wide.

“Anything for you, little brother. Invite Hyuck and I’ll feed him, too. Can’t have the kids dying their second week away from home.”

“Will do,” Mark said. “I’ve got a class at half two though, so I’ll need to leave by then.”

“Really? What have you got?”

Mark seemed caught off guard for a second. “Music theory.”

Taeyong raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was this morning.”

“It got moved,” Mark said, his voice a little higher than usual.

“Right,” Taeyong said.

“Oh yeah, I heard you almost got into a fight?”

Taeyong groaned, and now it was his turn to hide his face behind his hands. “I don’t know who told you that but they’re a liar.”

“Johnny.”

“Johnny’s a liar. I’ve been saying that for years.”

Mark laughed, and then mock-tutted. “After all you’ve taught me about drinking responsibly and pacifism—”

“Another word and I let you starve and adopt Hyuck as my new brother.”

“Hyuck is like ten times more annoying than I am!” Mark squawked, offended.

“Debateable.”

Taeyong listened as Mark started to list out reasons Donghyuck was the more annoying one out of the pair of them, and held back a snigger as it evolved into Mark just listing all the reasons he thought Donghyuck was great. Taeyong sipped at his chai latte, easily pushing his meeting with Doyoung to the back of his mind.

 

 

 

It was six o’clock all too soon for Doyoung’s taste. And though he usually anticipated the end of his shift, today he folded his apron up and changed out of his uniform very slowly so as to stretch out the time before he had to be at Taeyong’s apartment.

His manager bid him a good night, which he returned with a cheery wave and then set out the door, his rucksack hanging heavy from his shoulders.

It wasn’t difficult to find Taeyong’s home; it was one of the biggest and most modern buildings on campus, donated by some guy’s family when he’d been unable to get in on merit alone. Doyoung pressed the button for apartment 3B and waited.

“Hello?” came Taeyong’s voice, fuzzy through the speaker but still recognisable. Doyoung was glad it was him instead of Johnny, who might not have let him in.

“It’s Doyoung.”

“Ah right,” Taeyong said. “I’ll buzz you in.”

Doyoung waited for the doors to open, and tried to ignore the bitter thought of how his apartment didn’t have a working intercom system because they’d opted for a smaller place further away from campus so Ten could afford his office.

He took the elevator up to he third floor, fixing his appearance in the mirror during the wait. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he sorted his hair out and straightened his shirt anyway. The elevator dinged and the doors opened and Doyoung followed the corridor down to the door marked 3B.

He rapped his knuckles against it twice and only had to wait a second before the door opened to reveal Taeyong. He was in an oversized pink jumper – the same colour as his hair, and black jeans. On his feet were fluffy Pikachu slippers and Doyoung had to try very hard to not think of his own pair of Snorlax ones back at home.

“Come on in,” Taeyong said, with a smile that looked like it cost him a great amount of effort and stepped back to let Doyoung into the apartment.

“Thanks,” Doyoung said and was immediately hit by the wonderful smell of kimchi when he went inside.

“Sorry about the smell,” Taeyong said, leading the way into the apartment. “My younger brother was here earlier.” As though that explained it.

The apartment was much bigger than Doyoung’s. There was an actual living room and corridor as opposed to his which was just a small cluster of doors that all led to tiny rooms. It was immaculate, too. It looked freshly vacuumed, and there was next to no clutter, with everything sorted neatly onto shelves.

But it still looked lived in. There was a row of succulents and photo frames on the windowsill in the living room, which they had to walk through to get to the kitchen. There were also large prints of professional-grade looking photographs in frames hanging on the walls. A few landscapes and a couple of smaller shots of Taeyong, which Doyoung had to pull his eyes away from lest he be caught staring.

There was one picture Doyoung recognised, because Ten had the same one in his room, of Johnny and Ten at the beach, laughing with the sea in the background. He avoided looking at that one, too.

Johnny was sat on the floor in the living room at the coffee table, opposite a boy with rainbow streaks in his hair, a childish face and wide grin. There was a deck of cards between them. They both glared at him as he walked past, which he returned dutifully.

Taeyong gestured to the kitchen table, which was an actual thing they actually had.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Doyoung took a seat. “Tea?”

Doyoung had had quite enough of hot beverages, so he shook his head. “No thanks.”

“Okay then,” Taeyong said, sitting down opposite Doyoung and opening his shockingly expensive laptop. “I’ll get up the brief that Kim sent—”

A loud slap resonated through the apartment, quickly followed by separate cries of triumph and dismay.

Both Doyoung and Taeyong looked over to the living room, where Johnny was cradling his hand in pain, and the boy was cheering.

“Are they playing… snap?” Doyoung asked, unsure what was happening.

Taeyong sighed and then said with fond resignation, “it’s the only card game Donghyuck knows.”

Donghyuck – Doyoung guessed that was the boy’s name – seized the tall stack of cards and waved them mockingly in Johnny’s face.

“And Donghyuck is?”

“My charge,” Taeyong muttered, and didn’t bother to explain further, instead speaking louder so he could be heard over the array of noises Johnny and Donghyuck were making. “Guys, if you can’t be quiet then move somewhere else. We’re trying to work.”

“But, Tae—”

“No, Hyuck. Bedroom. Go.”

“Are you sure?” Johnny said, but he was already standing up.

“I’ll be fine,” Taeyong insisted and Doyoung felt slightly offended when he realised that they were talking about Taeyong being left alone with him. “I’ll call you if something happens, I promise.”

“Okay,” Johnny said, and then turned his attention to Doyoung and it was harder to not recoil at his gaze than it should have been. “Don’t try anything stupid. Come on, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck stood up, but not before glaring at Doyoung, and it was somehow even scarier than Johnny’s had been. Like, Doyoung easily believed that Donghyuck could cause him genuine harm.

They disappeared off down the corridor and all Doyoung heard before a door closed behind them was:

“Did I do a good job of being intimidating?”

“You did great, Hyuckie.”

“Sorry about that,” Taeyong said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all, rather, he sounded amused. “Okay here’s the brief. A seven to ten minute presentation on your chosen topic of happiness, including what it is, why it makes you happy, and how it manifests when used as a source of light magic.”

“So what makes you happy?” Doyoung asked, pulling out his notebook and own laptop, feeling slightly embarrassed at how much older it was than Taeyong’s. “We must have _something_ in common. Even very loosely.”

“Well,” Taeyong said, somewhat snidely, “what makes me happy is people not pretending that the literal concept of evil should be taught and studied and allowed to be practised. You?”

Anger flared in Doyoung. He had thought they’d called some sort of unspoken truce for the duration of this presentation but obviously he’d thought wrong.

“What makes _me_ happy is people minding their own fucking business,” he hissed.

“I agree,” Taeyong said, “unfortunately the law on dark magic affects us all. It _is_ my business.”

“What I choose to do with my life is nowhere near your business.”

“It is when it contributes to the legalisation of a practice which could literally maim or kill people.”

“All magic could literally maim or kill a person!” Doyoung threw his hands up.

“Of course that’s your argument,” Taeyong shouted, standing up. “Do you know why you think like that? Because your brain is hardwired to see the worst in everything which is also the reason you want to study dark magic. Only someone who would want to use evil magic could fail to see that all other types of magic have practical applications but dark magic does not.”

“It does have practical applications,” Doyoung bit out. He stood up as well to match Taeyong. “But that’s not the point of studying it, anyway. It’s to learn about the history and science and reasons behind its existence as one of the two fundamental governing forces of nature.”

“I’ll save you the trouble and tell you the reason behind its existence right now,” Taeyong snarled and placed his palms flat against the table. “To destroy”

“You’re wrong.”

“No. I’m not.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, and a rebuttal was right on Doyoung’s tongue when something seemed to change in Taeyong’s gaze and he slumped back down into his seat.

“This wasn’t how this was supposed to go,” he said, more to himself than Doyoung. He sounded tired, Doyoung noticed. Doyoung felt that way too.

 Doyoung looked away so he wouldn’t have to see the way Taeyong’s jumper engulfed him and made him look like a tiny, adorable pink blob.

Doyoung sat down slowly.

“Let’s start again,” he said, and Taeyong looked grateful at the idea. “We don’t have to like each other but we do have to get this project done and that’s not going to happen if we just keep arguing.”

Taeyong nodded.

“Okay. What makes you happy, Taeyong? Things that I might like too.”

“Baking?”

“I don't bake,” Doyoung said. “Science?”

Taeyong's nose wrinkled.

“Okay, not science.”

Taeyong looked around his apartment, as though he were looking for inspiration for things that made him happy.

His eyes stopped on something and Doyoung followed his eyeline to the tattered old leather-bound notebook lying on the sofa in the living room.

“Music?” He proposed.

“Music,” Doyoung said. His heart beat a little faster. “You sing?”

Taeyong shook his head. “Composing and rapping.”

“That's cool.”

“You?”

“I sing.”

“You any good?”

“I'd say so.”

A beat passed.

“So, music?”

“Music.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe music will be our always
> 
> really sorry again for how late this chapter is; it is a little longer than usual and i hope that makes up for it <3
> 
> i hope you enjoyed and if you did please leave kudos and comments because they really make my day x
> 
> thank you for reading~
> 
>  
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/whatisanult)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/whatisanult)


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